


Nowhere Else I'd rather Be

by McRaider



Series: A Profiler & A Firefighter [2]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Dani Powell is a Good Friend, Dani ships it, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, F/M, Firefighter Derek Hale, Gil Arroyo Acting as Malcolm Bright's Parental Figure, Good Parent Gil Arroyo, Good Parent Jessica Whitly, Grandpa Gil, Hurt Derek, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, JT isn't impressed by this shit, Jessica does NOT want to go by grandma, M/M, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel Friendship, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm would be a good dad, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Derek, Protective Gil Arroyo, Protective JT Tarmel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider
Summary: New York City is under attack from a serial killer. Malcolm, Gil, Dani and JT must work with the first responders of the city to bring in their killer. But there’s something far more sinister at play here and it’s going to put Derek and Malcolm directly in the line of fire. The only sanctuary for these two shattered men maybe what they find in one another.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly, JT Tarmel/Tally Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/Original Male Character(s)
Series: A Profiler & A Firefighter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601440
Comments: 79
Kudos: 68





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story in my series A Profiler & A Firefighter. I recommend you read Set Your Heart Ablaze first so you can be introduced to Derek who is Derek Hale from Teen Wolf, he is not a werewolf, however. This story deals with a lot of his back story as well as the aftermath of Malcolm being kidnapped by Watkins. From here forward the series diverges from canon, I may occasionally include episodes, but as a whole, they will diverge. Final note, please heed the tags, this story deals with underage rape (mentioned), murder, serial killings, ptsd and torture.

Chapter One

“Victim is Malcolm Bright, age thirty, severely beaten, multiple lacerations, varying in depth and length on his back, shoulders, and waist. Four-inch deep stab wound in the lower right quadrant, the abdomen is rigid and tender to the touch, likely internal bleeding. Partner also reports he appears to have been sexually assaulted and a broken metacarpal,” the medics rattled off as they shoved the gurney down the hallway towards an ER exam room, Dr. Travis following at their side and a number of nurses. 

Dr. Travis, who thought he was prepared prior to the arrival of the ambulance felt his brain halt for a moment. He cared about all his patients, but he liked Malcolm, shaking his head he remembered Malcolm needed a doctor and started barking orders left and right, “We need to get him stabilized and into the OR, and someone get me an assault counselor down here.”

The room was pure chaos, it was something Derek was acutely familiar with, every day of his life he stood amidst the chaos and tried to make sense of it. But now, as he stood just outside the emergency room. The two medics, firefighters from Derek’s station, stepped out of the room and saddled up beside him. “You okay?” Montgomery Cooper, or Monty to his friends and coworkers, had known Derek since they’d been in the firefighter training. 

Derek opened his mouth to reply with an instant yes, or equally pointless and empty reply. Before he closed his eyes and let his head fall into his hand for a long minute, exhaustion felt like it had etched its way into his very DNA. “No,” he rasped. “But he’s even less okay.” 

Monty gently turned his friend around and led him away from the busy room and loud shouting. Derek’s chest had started heaving, his arms shook against Monty’s. Gently, the medic pressed Derek’s back against the wall, rubbing his hands up and down the man’s biceps. The other medic walked away to grab some water and give the two men some privacy. 

“Right now, let’s just take it one step at a time. Malcolm will need you for support. You’re scared and that’s okay. He’s going to be scared too. The only way you’re going to get through this, together, is by remembering to breathe and take it one moment at a time.” 

Derek nodded, taking another lungful of air slowly, before letting it back out again, his cheeks puffing out as he let the air escape, “I’m a medic, I was a medic in the military, I know what I saw, it isn’t good.” 

Monty nodded, he wasn’t going to lie to his friend, “No, it wasn’t, but it also wasn’t the worst we’ve ever seen, was it?” 

Derek was silent for a long moment, he stared down at the floor, “It isn’t. How do I help him?” 

The tall medic shrugged, “Start by letting him make the decisions for a while, show him that you’re willing to wait for him if that’s what he needs. What would you want, what  _ did _ you want?”

Derek’s eyes shot up in surprise as he searched Monty’s pale gray ones, “How did--” 

“My sister was raped when she was in college, you notice things, certain looks, winces, movements. I had an idea, I wasn’t sure. Not until now. Derek, for every moment you stand here asking what you can do to help him, think about what you wish someone had done for you?” 

Derek felt his heart pound against his ribs at the memories flooding his mind. He wished someone had sat with him and just held his hand, he wished someone had believed him. He wished he’d had someone he could truly lean on during the toughest times, and he wished he’d had someone who had treated him completely normal the rest of the time. “I think I can do that,” Derek finally replied. 

Monty gave his friend a tight smile, before giving Derek’s shoulder a squeeze, “Most importantly, remember that it’s possible to have a full life after this, even if it doesn’t seem like it right this second.” 

o0o

Derek sighed several hours later when he gripped the doorknob and stepped into the hospital room. Gil and Jessica looked up at him and each gave him a knowing but tight smile before they stood and stepped out. Vacant blue eyes watched as Derek moved closer to the bed. Derek studied the man for a long minute, he had a small bandage on his forehead, and though it couldn’t be seen, there was one on his shoulder and a larger one on his side. 

“Hey,” Derek whispered as he moved over to the chair and sank into it like his body weighed a ton. Reaching out he paused, wanting to put his hand atop Malcolm’s good hand, trying to decide if it was a good decision. Finally, erring on the side of hopefulness, he let his hand fall over the unharmed forearm. Derek tried not to notice the small flinch he felt at his initial touch. Derek could remember the early days, after realizing he’d been a victim of rape. The shame he felt but the utter desire for someone, anyone to love him and not hurt him. 

Malcolm didn’t reply at first, just stared at Derek with his tired eyes, gaunt face, and a look of disinterest. “Why are you here?” he finally croaked, his voice still hoarse from his screaming the day before. 

Derek felt his stomach roll at the question, “Because I care about you,” Derek managed to strangle a reply out through his frozen vocal cords. 

Malcolm continued to just stare at him, that numb vacant expression, “I don’t deserve it.” He whispered in reply before turning his head away from Derek. 

Malcolm hadn’t cried, refused to feel it at all, but deep in his chest was an agonizing throb trying to burst against his ribs, begging him to feel, pleading him to let it out. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in Derek’s arms, hell even Gil or his mother’s arms, and disappear for a very long time.

Derek opened his mouth to reply, a tear trailing it’s way from his eye down his cheek and into his beard as he closed his mouth again and struggled to form a reply. Looking down at the floor, he watched another tear hit the linoleum before he wiped at his cheeks with his hands. “I can wait,” he whispered. He desperately wanted to brush the hair from Malcolm’s face, but he resisted, not wanting to startle the man. 

Malcolm turned and faced Derek, the ache in his chest seemed to grow stronger by the second, “I can’t ask you to wait.” 

“You aren’t, I can wait. However long you need, I can wait. Can I kiss your forehead?” Derek asked. 

Malcolm nodded, closing his eyes when he felt the familiar scratch of stubble. The ache in his chest was trying to force it’s way up his throat. He shut his eyes against a wave of sorrow. His lower lip shaking, or maybe his whole body was in fact shaking. Malcolm wasn’t sure why he did it, but he reached up with his good hand and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist in a tight hug. He prayed that Derek’s promise was true, he desperately wanted to believe this man was willing to wait for him. 

Derek sat down on the bed and let Malcolm fall further into his arms, as much as his bruised ribs and abs would allow. Derek felt the slight wet spot on his shoulder grow larger and he felt the vice grip around his heart ease up just slightly when he heard the broken sob. One hand gripping his shirt tight. Wrapping both arms as tight around Malcolm as he dared, Derek held the man as if his arms were all that anchored Malcolm to this world. Malcolm began to silently wail in Derek’s arms. “We’ll get through it, I promise. You’re safe now.” He gently rocked them back and forth, unsure how long either of them sat there. Derek was certain Malcolm would push him away, again. But Derek was going to be here for as long as Malcolm needed him. 

“I’m so tired,” Malcolm whispered after several long minutes his voice raspy from crying and exhaustion, Derek was positive his voice couldn’t sound more painful if the man swallowed nails. 

“Close your eyes, I’m here.” 

“Will you stay?” Malcolm asked, he didn’t want to be a burden, but all he wanted right now was to be reminded that he was safe. 

‘Forever if you asked me to’ Derek thought, but instead he nodded, “Of course, scoot over,” he whispered. The bed wasn’t large and no doubt a nurse or doctor would say something about it, but he climbed up onto the bed and helped Malcolm come to rest again his chest. Bones lept up and lay across both their laps. 

“Promise not to accidentally stab you,” Malcolm whispered, eyelids growing heavy, voice thick as he began to let the exhaustion and pain win.

For a single moment, Derek realized maybe, just maybe they'd be okay after all. “Great, then I promise not to accidentally abandon you. I’ll protect you, I’ll keep watch,” Derek promised, pressing his lips to Malcolm’s hair. He’d keep watch as long as needed. 

Derek wasn’t sure how long they laid there, the fever hot body pressed against his, occasionally moaning in pain or a nightmare. All the while Derek kept pressing his lips to Malcolm’s hair. “I’m here,” he’d murmur anytime Malcolm began to twitch too much in his sleep. 

At some point, the firefighter’s own eyes had slid shut and he fell into an unsettled sleep as well. It wasn’t until hours later that he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Jessica giving him a motherly smile. “You’re going to be sore if you stay like that much longer, though, if he’s sleeping I suppose I could get a larger bed,” she offered with a slight smirk. 

“He won’t be alone,” Derek promised, sliding his arms out from around Malcolm. 

“No, he most certainly won’t. What a day it’s been,” Jessica whispered as she sat down in one of the chairs between her childrens’ beds. “How are you doing?” she asked. 

Derek chuckled as he sank into the recliner on Malcolm’s other side, “Honestly, I’m trying not to go crazy, I’d do anything to be able to help him. To make this less painful.” 

Jessica shook her head as she looked back at Ainsley who was sleeping soundly. “Then you know how I’ve felt for the past twenty years,” she offered, a rueful glare on her face. “What I wouldn’t give to go back and figure everything out a few days earlier. To protect him from all of this,” she reached out, brushing the hair from his face. 

“Would any of us still be what makes us...us?” Derek asked, “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go back and save my family, but...losing them...made me realize what good I could do in the world.” 

She smiled, looking back at her boy again, “When he was a little boy before things went to hell, he used to want to be a doctor. Just like his daddy.” 

Derek didn’t miss the wistful look in her eyes, a mother longing to have her little boy back. “Was he a good kid?” 

She chuckled, “Most days, though more often than not he proved to be smart for his own good. He was ahead of nearly everyone in his age range, walking before most were scooting, talking before most were even babbling. Anyway, here’s this precocious little toddler, who regularly tells his nanny she’s wrong, and one day I just ask him, practically beg him to be good for mommy. Just for one day, because I had to go out and he couldn’t come with me.” She smiled, shaking her head at the memory, “So I finally got home, and here’s my beautiful little prince, all smiles and his nice outfit, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. I walk in the front door and he tells me he’s been good all day and wanted to know what his reward was.” 

Derek chuckled, “What did you tell him?” 

“I told him my love and affection, he was three what else would I treat a toddler with for doing as he’s told,” she shook her head. “He looked at me without a hint of humor and replied ‘I don’t want that’.” 

“Did he like becoming an older brother?” Derek asked, still chuckling over her response. 

“Not at first, no. Certainly not once he’d asked his father where babies came from. Wouldn’t look at the two of us for days, like we’d done something shameful. Then he saw the first ultrasound of her,” Jessica sighed, fondness lightened her tone, “He was a goner after that.” She looked back over at Derek, “What about you, did you enjoy being a big brother?” 

Derek’s face fell slightly at that, and for a moment, Jessica regretted asking the question, but the serious young man’s face began to shift into a warm smile, “I was ten by the time the twins came along, but...I was the youngest before then, so for ten years it had been mostly me and two of my older brothers, the rest were old enough that they were out of the house by then. They were so little and cute. They didn’t stay that way for long of course, soon they were chasing me, and driving me crazy. But yeah, I loved being their big brother.” 

“They’re the two that survived right?” She hated how it sounded, but tried to keep it sounding kind. 

“I got them out of the house, yeah. They were never the same of course, my...my brother got into drugs, unfortunately. My sister has had a string of off and on relationships. I’m not sure she’ll ever find happiness, neither of them ever wants to talk to me again, but uh, they’re alive so I try and focus on that.” 

“After his father was arrested, Malcolm wouldn’t speak with me for months, I wasn’t sure he’d ever come around. Some days I was sure he hated me, honestly some days I still wonder, but like you, I kept telling myself that as long as he was alive, that’s all that mattered?” 

Derek studied her for a long minute, his green eyes filled with empathy, “And now?” 

She looked back at her baby boy, capable of seeing the little boy inside the grown man, “Now I’m thankful I held on for so long to him. I think our relationship is better than ever. Even though I’m not an ideal mother.” 

Derek snorted, “From what I hear, parents never think they’re ideal. From where I stand, Malcolm loves you, and yeah like any mom, you drive him crazy, but you’re still his mom.” 

“He’s right,” a soft whisper came from the bed, shocked green-blue eyes looked up and the woman who was normally so controlled beamed. “My mom,” Malcolm murmured, his good hand finding a way to trace across her fingers. 

She let out a small sob, she wished she could say it wasn’t a sob, that perhaps it was a laugh, but instead, she gripped her son’s hand back as tight as she dared and pressed a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles. 

**Five and a Half Weeks Later**

He sat at the edge of the hospital bed, looking down at his casted hand, his back had healed for the most part and he’d had appointments with a plastic surgeon to help with the worst spots. Physically, Malcolm was told he was healthy enough to go home. 

But Malcolm had to admit he was terrified, the idea of going home alone to his empty apartment, to the restraints on his bed. He clenched his hand to stop the shaking. There was a knock on his hospital door and he glanced up to see Gil standing at the doorway. Malcolm just nodded, letting the man know it was safe to come in. They’d been doing a lot of permission asking over the last five weeks. Malcolm appreciated it, knowing they were trying to give him something to feel in control over, but honestly it was getting a bit annoying. 

“Hey, so Derek and I thought you might like to shave, I brought you your kit,” Gil said, putting it on the bed beside Malcolm. 

Blue eyes looked over at the kit, Malcolm didn’t trust himself to try and shave with his other hand, he closed his eyes, how could such simple tasks feel so difficult. He felt a hand on his elbow, it was a light touch, but he still flinched. He looked up in brown eyes, “I can do it if you’d like. Or Derek can come and do it. If you don’t want a guy to do it, I can ask one of the female nurses to come in and do it,” he offered. 

“I don’t know what I want,” Malcolm admitted, “I’m terrified to go back to my own place, I’m afraid every time the door opens. I can’t sleep,” he shook his head, that wasn’t exactly a new development he supposed, but it certainly didn’t make him feel better. 

Gil had to admit as much as he liked his kid being honest with him, hearing the honesty hurt more than he could say. He sighed and sat down in a chair across from Malcolm. “You don’t have to go back to your apartment. My place is all set up, you can stay with me as long as you’d like. Your mother and I have done everything we can to make sure you could go somewhere and feel safe.” 

“I have to survive on my own eventually,” Malcolm reasoned. 

Gil nodded, “Yes, you do. But not right away. Look, I want you to be comfortable and I’ll support whatever you want, but if you’re afraid of being alone, then don’t go.” 

“I don’t want to burden you.” 

Gil gave his kid a look, his brown eyes full of pain and empathy, “Malcolm, there isn’t going to be a day in your life that you’ll ever be a burden to me.” 

“I want to be stronger, not let all this bug me…” Malcolm stopped and shook his head, hating himself for even admitting it. 

“Malcolm, if I had been through half of what you’d been through I’d have locked myself away in my bedroom, hid under the covers, and never came out. You went through something horrible and traumatic, no one's going to judge you for needing to figure out how to cope.” 

Malcolm gave Gil a tiny smile in return for the mental image Gil had conjured, “Will you be angry if I asked if Derek could come live with us for a little while?” 

Gil chuckled, “He’s already been camping on the couch every other day, that’s fine.” 

“Thank you, I think...maybe we can shave when we get back to your place.” Malcolm offered. 

“All right, I brought you some clothes to change into, you good or did you need any help?” 

Malcolm looked around and sighed, “I’m trying not to be completely overwhelmed by everything right now, but Gabrielle said it was normal.” 

Gil nodded, “Probably, we’ll just do one thing at a time, what do we need to do for you to leave.” 

“The doctor’s headed in shortly with forms for me to sign and discharge info. Could you maybe intercept and sign off on anything.” Gil had a medical proxy for Malcolm anyway, even though Ainsley was his emergency contact. 

“Of course.” 

“I want a shower but I’m guessing that’ll be difficult at first, so maybe when we get to your place?” 

Gil gave his kid another nod, “I’ll go talk to the nurses, try and get changed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

Malcolm knew that Gil wasn’t intentionally trying to smother him, no one was, so far everyone had been patient and calm with him. It was enough to drive the young profiler insane. It left him feeling on edge and uneven, more so than usual. Despite knowing that Watkins was dead, Malcolm still felt a constant dread like he would wake up and be back in that room. 

But, he’d been in the hospital weeks now, the rational part of his brain could recognize he’d passed the point of this being a dream or hallucination. Removing the hospital gown he pulled the sweats on first, then managed to finagle the t-shirt over his head without causing too much pain in his back. He was staring down at his shoes deciding what to do next when Gil returned with a bag of papers, a water bottle, and what looked like a year’s worth of medical supplies. “Did you steal those?” Malcolm asked playfully. 

Gil chuckled, it was nice to see his kid smiling, even only for a few minutes. “You wish, no but I signed all your discharge forms and got your aftercare instructions. Dr. Travis wants to see you next week. Do you need help with the shoes?” 

“I hate this,” Malcolm muttered as Gil bent down and slid on Malcolm’s first shoe. 

“Kid, there will come a day when I’m old and decrepit and have no one to care for me, but you. So try not to get too hung up on me tying your shoes for you, when you’ll be doing it in thirty years for me,” Gil joked. He knew Malcolm hated the idea of being weak, though how the kid could ever get it into his head that he was weak after all he’d been through, was beyond Gil. 

Sliding the other shoe on he finished the job and then stood. Malcolm pushed off from the bed, only slightly unsteady, “How long til I can go back to work?” 

“It’s a month’s mandated leave kid, try and at least last a week or two, the brass would appreciate it,” he offered as they checked to make sure Malcolm had everything and began the slow walk out of the hospital. Dr. Travis had been lenient on taking a wheelchair out, having won the war of keeping Malcolm in the hospital an extra couple days. As far as he was concerned, avoiding another AMA sign out was a win so he called it even. 

Malcolm supposed he should be thankful they’d hired him on full time as a detective at all, given that he was the reason former Detective Owen Shannon was dead. He shook his head shortly, trying to rid his mind of that reoccurring thought. He hadn’t killed Shannon, that had been Watkins. Still, the knowledge that it had been Malcolm’s idea to go in the first place left a sour taste in the young profiler’s mouth. 

“You never told me, did you want to go to my place or yours?” Gil asked as he pulled the door open on the Le Mans. 

Malcolm hadn’t answered because he still didn’t know. He hated the idea of being a burden to those around him, and both Derek and Gil had been there for him as much as possible, while still working when Malcolm had been in the hospital. 

Gabrielle had been encouraging him to remember that family doesn’t see him as a burden, but rather someone they love and want to help feel better. Still those words weren’t ringing quite true to him yet, then again, she’d made a few other odd suggestions to Malcolm to help him overcome this, so he supposed it would just take time. 

“Kid?” Gil’s worried brown eyes studied him, no doubt wondering if he should turn around and take Malcolm right back inside. 

“Sorry,” Malcolm whispered as he sank down onto the bench seat of the old car, “Your place is fine for now,” he answered. 

Gil nodded and went around to climb into the driver’s side, occasionally glancing over at Malcolm, the trip remained quiet. Malcolm had spent enough time with the FBI to know what emotional and sexual trauma looked like and he was equally certain that no matter how much someone said they understood unless they’d been exclusively in the victim’s shoes, they knew no such thing. 

Malcolm had spent the first two weeks of his hospital stay in and out of consciousness with a fever from an infection and then near sepsis because one of the nails on the whip he’d been struck with had left a small fragment in one of the wounds. The following two weeks had been spent resting and regaining functions of his body and some strength, as well as minor surgeries to further treat his back and hand. Gabrielle had started coming during the third week, trying to help Malcolm start working through some of it. 

Only trouble was, Malcolm wasn’t sure rape was something he could work through. He’d told Gabrielle as much and she just gave him a sad knowing smile,  _ “It is, and you will, but it’ll have to be in your own time.”  _ She had assured him. 

Malcolm startled when he felt a light touch on his arm and looked over to see they were parked in front of Gill’s home. “You ready, or should I keep driving around?” 

Malcolm shook his head with a smile, “No, I’m fine, let’s go inside, I’m already exhausted,” he joked, though it fell a little flat. 

Together the two men traversed the stairs leading to the front door and Gil pushed the door open from behind Malcolm so the younger man could step inside. Unlike his own place which was a reminder of his past and his mother’s place which physically  _ was  _ his past, Gil and Jackie’s always held a different spot in Malcolm’s heart. It was a simple brownstone, that opened up straight back into the hallway that leads into the kitchen and Gil’s small office and library, there were a set of stairs against the wall to the immediate right of the door that went up to the bedrooms, there were a total of three as well as a bathroom upstairs and half a bathroom down here. Then the living room and a small dining room were off to the left, which led back to the kitchen as well. It felt warm, and lived in, even after Jackie had died, Malcolm couldn’t deny that coming back here left him feeling….secure. 

“You want to head upstairs, or are you hungry?” 

“Uh, I’ve laid around enough for a while, maybe I could sit and read in the living room for a bit?” Malcolm requested, before steadily making his way over to the couch in the living room. A small smile spread across his face when he saw a familiar pair of sneakers by the inside of the living room on the shoe rack, and a dark leather jacket hanging off the back of the coat rack. So Derek really had been staying here. Malcolm would dig into that a little, not that he didn’t understand, this place was inherently welcoming. 

“He’s upstairs taking a nap, ended his shift early this morning, and sounds like it was a rough one,” Gil explained, unsure why he needed to. 

“Don’t wake him, I’m not going anywhere,” Malcolm assured Gil with a smile, “Where’s Bones and Athena?” 

Before he could get his answer there was a small bark from upstairs followed by the small patter of paws on the wood floor, as the not so small pitbull tried to gracefully bound down the stairs, but ended up looking more like she was about to take a header every two steps. 

“Well, he’s awake now,” Malcolm chuckled as he knelt down and let his puppy greet him. Athena was all wiggles and paws as she jumped and licked at Malcolm’s face. She had easily grown several pounds and inches larger in the time since he’d seen her longer than a few minutes. The hospital had been a bit more strict with her since she was still a puppy and mostly untrained. 

But her velvety coat was still as soft as ever, and she was instantly pleased to be picked up and cuddled in her human’s arms. Small grunts of excitement coming from her every time she nibbled at one of his good fingers. 

He’d only just settled on the couch when another set of paws came down the stairs and Bones entered the living room, looking far more athletic and majestic than Athena had. “Hey buddy,” Malcolm greeted as the Shepherd lay down on Malcolm’s feet. 

“I’m going to go check on some soup I’ve had cooking, shout if you need anything,” Gil explained, knowing his kid was in good hands now, plus he heard the telltale creak of floorboards on the second floor, meaning Derek was in fact awake. 

A few moments later Malcolm glanced over to the stairs as he heard steps on the stairs. Derek looked tired, exhausted really, his face drawn, dark circles that could classify as baggage, his hair was sticking out in every direction. Yet, as soon as his pale green eyes landed on Malcolm, his face lit up. Malcolm couldn’t help his own small smile that the warmth spread through him, knowing he could make someone like Derek smile. 

“It’s good to see you home,” Derek offered, his warm smile displaying his perfect dimples and beautiful white teeth. “Sorry I couldn’t be there to pick you up,” he offered as he moved over to the couch and sat down beside Malcolm. 

Malcolm couldn’t help it, he beamed despite himself and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder, “You’re here now, how was your shift, anything exciting?” 

“Some guy got his testicles stuck in a campfire cooker, which was more than a little disturbing, apparently someone dared him to.” 

Malcolm chuckled, “The things men will do for pride.” He smiled when he felt the hearty chuckle as Derek turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Malcolm’s hair. 

“Gross, I need a shower,” Malcolm grimaced. 

“Let’s go take one then,” Malcolm let Derek take his hand and gently pull him off the couch. Together they made their way to the upstairs bathroom. Malcolm was surprised to see there was already a razor for shaving and a bag to cover his wrist in the shower. Malcolm couldn’t explain the sudden relief he felt, he’d felt alone and claustrophobic in the hospital, despite clearly knowing he hadn’t been. Here he felt surrounded by safety and security. “You want to do most of it yourself and let me know when you need help?” Derek asked as he stood by the sink.

Malcolm looked back at the firefighter and gave him a warm smile, “Thank you, yes.”

“No problem, shave first or after?” 

“Now, if it’s okay,” Malcolm decided.

Derek nodded and gestured toward the closed toilet lid, he helped Malcolm remove his button-down shirt, before grabbing the shaving cream. Every move Derek made was slow and methodical, intentional, and planned. His only goal was to keep Malcolm as comfortable as possible.

Malcolm tried not to jerk on initial contact as Derek brought his cream covered hands to his cheeks and chin, despite the flinch, Derek didn’t hesitate, he gently used his thumb to stroke Malcolm’s cheek, making them both chuckle when some of the shaving cream got smeared on his cheek. “Thank you,” Malcolm whispered as Derek wiped off his hands once he was done and grabbed the safety razor.

“Of course, you’d do it for me,” Derek assured him as he came closer.

Malcolm’s hand stayed his movements instantly, blue eyes meeting pale green, “I mean for everything…this wasn’t a ride you ever had to take, and you didn’t sign up for this when we started dating. I just…want you to know how much I appreciate you being here through everything.” Malcolm wanted to tell Derek how much he’d always assumed he didn’t deserve to be happy, but now he was starting to think differently. How he felt maybe, just maybe he could survive this too. 

Derek’s heart was pounding, three words caught in his throat, desperate to come out, but so afraid to say them. Instead, Derek leaned forward and pressed his lips to Malcolm’s forehead. He focused on pouring every ounce of what he was feeling into that kiss, hoping maybe Malcolm would realize he cherished the man and would go to the ends of the Earth for him. He could wait for the right time to finally say it, for the right time to tell Malcolm how he really felt about him. As he pulled away, smiling when he saw Malcolm’s eyes shining with what he hoped were the same emotions, he murmured a reply, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”


	2. A New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm tries to claw his way back to normal, while Derek and Gil just try to remain sane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yay, update! Bad news, I didn't pass my exam so this may be updated a little slower for a month or so fingers crossed I pass it on take two, which usually I do.

“Jessica, for the love of God, your son is a grown man--” Derek hissed in annoyance, arms gesturing to the burly German woman standing near the bed. 

As if on cue the front door opened and Malcolm stepped inside, talking about Jell-o of all things. “Now, orange, orange can be either, you know, orange or peach-flavored. But the difference in hue is barely discernible,” Malcolm explained as he and Dani stepped inside. 

Derek’s chin dropped to his chest as he tried to heave a sigh and chuckle at the same time. 

“Mr. Bright, to bed. Now,” the large woman demanded moving closer to Derek, who in turn took a step back and closer to Malcolm. 

“Thank you, Ilsa, though I should warn you. My son does not respond particularly well to direction. Detective Powell. How lucky Malcolm is to be surrounded by this army of nurturing women,” she gave a glare to her son’s boyfriend, making Derek roll his eyes and throw his hands up in defeat. 

Dani eyed Derek, trying to hide her smirk, before glancing to Malcolm then back to Jessica, “I'm just following orders,” she reasoned. 

Malcolm took a deep breath, before addressing his mother, “Mom, did you make a new friend?” 

“Ilsa is my little homecoming gift. She can run your baths, administer your meds and prepare your meals until you have sufficiently recovered,” Jessica explained with her usual wane smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Which I told her we didn’t need,” Derek clarified. 

Malcolm glanced over at Derek then back again, “Mom, I don't need this, I’m fine.” He noticed the way Derek’s jaw clenched at the word fine but remained silent. 

Jessica pursed her lips, “She also competed in the German judo team in the '92 Olympics. Should you have one of your more unruly nightmares.” 

“Jessica--” Derek began again, only to be cut off by the nurse. 

“I have placed fresh sheets on your bed and warmed them with a hot water bottle. Would you prefer whiskey or bourbon in your hot toddy?” She questioned. Both Malcolm and Derek looked at her in mild surprise, before glancing at one another. 

“Uh, whiskey. Thank you,” Malcolm replied skeptically. 

Jessica pulled Dani away from her son and Derek, “So, how is he, really?” She asked. 

“I don't think it's my place to--”

Jessica waved off her guilt, “Oh if I don't hear it from you, I certainly will not hear it from anyone else.”

“Right here,” Malcolm offered calmly as Derek helped him remove his jacket and shoes. 

“He wants to come back to work,” Dani supplied as she glanced at the two men. Both of whom glared at him. It wasn’t a surprise to her of course, whilst she thought Malcolm needed to work through whatever was going on in his brain, the truth was she agreed with Derek and JT, working might help him. 

“My son sleeps in chains, subsists on sparkling water and licorice, and can barely take care of a parakeet, much less his puppy.” 

“Okay, enough!” Derek snapped, he looked from Malcolm who was giving him pleading eyes not to start a fight. “Jessica, I understand you and Gil’s concern, and yes I share some of them, but Malcolm is  _ still  _ a grown man, and like it or not it’s his decision when to go back to work. It’s his decision when he’s ready to be on his own,” Derek stepped forward, into Jessica’s space, toe to toe with the woman who was capable of silencing most with just a look. “OR need I remind you that your son had a lot of his  _ choices _ taken away both by Watkins and Martin over the last two months.” 

Jessica’s mouth snapped shut, while Dani put her head down, rubbing her index finger knuckle over the bridge of her nose to keep from chuckling. Malcolm just stood there, caught somewhere between awe for this beautiful man, and annoyance that now suddenly everything had to be brought back up. 

Derek turned back to Ilsa, “If, and only if Malcolm wants you to stay, then are you welcome to stay.” 

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly, before he looked from Ilisa to his mother and Derek, “Uh...you can stay, but only because Derek can’t be here twenty-four seven and sometimes I could use help with things,” he reasoned finally, realizing it would be nice to have someone around who was strictly there to assist him if necessary. “And only when I ask for the help,” he added in case his mother paid this woman off or something.

“What you need is a vacation,” muttered Jessica, then she gasped in delight, “I can have you on my private jet to Tahiti in an hour.” 

Derek’s brows furrowed, as did Dani’s, Malcolm raised his hand, “Stop, I’ve got a review with the Police Psychiatrist tomorrow, he gets to decide if I’m healthy enough to return to work. For now, I can agree to Gil and your terms, I will stay home and rest.” 

“That’s all I ask,” replied Jessica, realizing she had to accept defeat. 

Malcolm waited until Dani and Jessica had left before he turned on Derek, “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” he tried to reason calmly. 

“Malcolm, she comes in here and lords all over your life taking away every decision you make,” Derek replied. 

“And how is what you just did any different?” Malcolm snapped, it was only slight annoyance in his voice, but as Derek opened his mouth to reply, Malcolm lifted his hand, “I’m not ungrateful, but I’ve got enough people in my life trying to control everything that happens to me, around me. Can we just try and get back to some semblance of normalcy, please?” 

The firefighter deflated immediately, and nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry.” 

Malcolm smiled, stepping forward, “Don’t apologize for caring enough to protect me. I appreciate that for once I’m not the only person on my side.” 

Derek smirked, “I’m not entirely on your side, I agree that I’d rather wrap you in bubble wrap for six months until you weigh about thirty more pounds and have healed, but I also know from experience that sitting around and doing nothing sometimes makes it worse.” 

Malcolm sighed as he lay down on the bed, Derek smiled and joined him, Athena and Bones sat snoozing in the corner of the room where Derek had dropped them off earlier. Derek lay on his side, studying Malcolm’s face, remembering what it felt like to think he’d never see it again. “You’re worried,” Derek murmured. 

“I don’t think he’ll clear me tomorrow.” 

“Would that be such a bad thing? I mean your mom has a point, Tahiti is beautiful from what I hear and we’ve never gone on an actual vacation, just the two of us,” Derek suggested with a grin. 

Malcolm chuckled as he looked over, “You want to go on vacations with me?” 

Derek moved closer, “Babe, I want to do everything a normal boyfriend does with you.” 

“I’m not normal.” 

Derek shrugged, “Normalcy is in the eye of the beholder. It’s a chance to leave this all behind, even if it’s only for a couple of weeks. 

o0o

Derek was off to work by six the next morning, leaving Malcolm to fend for himself mostly, Ilsa was there, and she was kind enough to make him a light breakfast of toast and coffee as well as feed the dogs before he headed off to work. 

Malcolm wanted to say he wasn’t nervous about the upcoming meeting, but in all honesty he really was. He wanted to be a part of the NYPD and a part of Gil’s team. Walking through the bullpen that morning, with his tie loosely hanging around his neck he stepped into Gil’s office and shut the door. 

“Hey kid, how’re you feeling?” Gil asked as he stood. 

“Can you help me with this?” Malcolm asked, gesturing to his necktie. 

Gil nodded and came over, starting with buttoning up his kid’s top button, “You ready?” he asked, looking into the pale blue eyes of his surrogate son. He marveled sometimes at how much he could love a child he’d never contributed to creating. But he did, with every ounce of his being. 

“Am I ready?” Malcolm scoffed, “I slept a full three and a half hours. Okay, three, but it was quality. There was definitely some REM mixed in there,” babbled Malcolm nervously. 

Gil smirked, “You're used to being the smartest person in the room. Not today. Dr. Coppenrath is a police psychiatrist. Internal Affairs trusts him to make sense of minds like yours. He’s going to want to talk about...the incident.” 

Malcolm nodded, eyes cast down, “Don't worry, I got this...I’m ready.” 

Gil gave his kid a single nod, “All I'm saying is, don't underestimate him. Just, try and be yourself and be honest.” 

Malcolm took a slow breath, mentally bracing himself before he stepped out of Gil’s office and across to the bullpen. JT, Gil, and Dani had all spoken to Dr. Coppenrath the previous day, today the focus was on Malcolm. And it left the young profiler feeling more than a little off-kilter. He pushed the door open and looked inside. 

The red-headed man sat at the table making notes and glanced up when Malcolm stepped inside, “Come in. Malcolm. I'm Dr. Coppenrath.” He greeted as he stood and accepted Malcolm’s good hand to shake. 

“Good morning, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Simon. Have a seat. So, this is a psychiatric evaluation. My recommendation to Internal Affairs will determine if you are mentally competent to continue consulting with the NYPD,” Simon explained, no point in beating around the bush. He knew plenty about the young man before him, he’d done his homework. 

“No problem. Simon says.”

Simon smirked, it wasn’t the first time someone had said that “More or less.” He watched as Malcolm glanced around the room, squinting slightly. 

“It looks different here. The case board?” Malcolm questioned. 

“I removed the crime scene photos. I find it difficult, in these police settings, to keep the focus on you. So, I try to create a safe space,” Simon explained. 

“Not sure I have a safe space,” Malcolm shot back in a macabre tone

“You can have one. But it takes work. I specialize in the treatment of inadequately processed trauma.”

Malcolm snickered, “Gotcha. And, got that.”

Simon chuckled, he liked Malcolm already, “They warned me about this. The humor. But I have to say, I enjoy it,” he felt that despite what some said, humor could, in fact, be a very healthy coping mechanism. 

“What else did they warn you about?” Malcolm questioned. 

Coppenrath just smiled, “Why don’t you tell me about your experience leading up to Christmas and being captured by John Watkins.” 

_ A Day Earlier _

_ “Tell me, Detective Tarmel, are you concerned about Bright's mental state?” Simon asked the man sitting across from him.  _

_ JT’s reply was completely deadpanned, “Of course I was. If Bright was an actual state, he'd be Florida.” Simon had to physically stop himself from snorting out loud.  _

_ “Do you think he’s processed the trauma of taking another life?” Simon studied Gil as he sat there quietly.  _

_ “I don’t know. I know he’s talked to his therapist about it, and I also know we all deal with trauma in our own way. No one ever forgets killing someone, even in self-defense,” Gil reasoned.  _

_ “But do you feel he’s faced it enough to return to work?”  _

_ Dani sighed, “I think that Malcolm is different than most of us, his cases are how he balances the scale. So do I think he’s dealt with it, no not entirely.”  _

_ Simon nodded, “But do you think he is capable of returning to work?”  _

_ JT looked down at the notes the man was writing, “I think Bright needs to get back to doing what he does best, which means yeah returning to work. I know Gil and the department want him to take a longer break, and if you determine that as well, then it is what it is. But Malcolm puts the victims first constantly, even if it doesn’t always look that way.”  _

_ Simon made another note, “Even when he went and followed Watkins alone, a few times?”  _

_ Dani smirked, “I didn’t say he had street smarts. Yeah, he’s probably going to face some more feelings about it later, but that’s what we’re here for.”  _

_ Simon studied her for a minute, “How so?”  _

_ JT shrugged, “We’re family, that’s what family does, we help each other get through the shit. So yeah, I think he’s ready or will be soon.”  _

Today

Malcolm recounted the experience leading up to the capture and ultimately waking up under the house with barely a hiccup. He had worked through a number of things with Gabrielle, admittedly there were still some aspects he wasn’t ready to cope with, the shame he felt over what had happened in the basement, the horror of taking a life. 

Simon was quiet, studying, and listening to Malcolm as he spoke about the experience. There were minor hints of distress, a slight tremor in his voice, fidgeting with his hands. Simon also noticed that despite the situation, Malcolm otherwise remained fairly calm, which was encouraging. 

“You're an expert in psychology, Malcolm. You understand what I'm looking for. Intractable symptoms of PTSD,” Simon explained calmly. 

“Flashbacks panic attacks recurrent hallucinations,” finished Malcolm. 

“Were you experiencing any of these symptoms during your captivity or since then?” 

“Absolutely not. And I'm not just saying that because otherwise you would declare me deranged and I would lose my job slash-coping mechanism,” Malcolm replied, trying to ignore the figure standing in the corner staring at him with vacant dead eyes. 

“See, now, this is stimulating. Two overeducated adult men sparring over psychology. Tell me, Malcolm, what do you remember after being stabbed?” Simon wanted to hear the words, he wanted and needed to know that Malcolm could at least acknowledge what he’d done. 

Malcolm sighed, deciding to skirt around the issue a bit longer, “Nothing's more important than the case.”

“Oh, explain that to me.” Simon requested, noting that Malcolm had avoided his question. 

“I grew up inside a case. Living with a killer. If I'd have solved that one faster, more people would have been saved. When I put myself in danger to find a killer, I'm not thinking about me. I'm thinking about them.” 

“Yes, the girl in the trunk, she had become an obsession, hadn't it? Another way to avoid your own trauma.”

“I was fine.”

Coppenrath chuckled, “‘Fine.’ There's that word again. Whenever you say you're "fine," a warning bell goes off in my head.”

“Okay, I wasn't fine. I'm a mess. But I'm a mess that works,” Malcolm countered. 

“Well, I'm not arguing that you're good at your job,” Simon explained as he stood and sat on the edge of the window sill. 

“No, you're bad at yours. I am trauma. I'm good at my job because it helps me understand the human mind. That shouldn't preclude me from police work, it should qualify me for it. What do you really know about trauma, Simon?” Malcolm asked, turning it around on the brilliant man before him. 

Simon’s eyes narrowed briefly, before he nodded, “Ten years ago, I was on vacation with my daughter. We rented a little cottage in Sunken Meadow Beach. And Lily loved the water. She'd swim for hours. It was the perfect trip and our last together. I was driving, my daughter was in the passenger seat, and I looked away for a split second, you know, to find a better radio station. The car flipped, and she died on impact. And for a while, I told myself it was inevitable, a tragic accident. It was. But not blameless. I couldn't move on until I acknowledged my role in the crash. So stop lying to me, Bright. Stop lying to yourself. Something happened when you were underground with John Watkins and immediately after, You're haunted by it. And until you can say what it was, talk about it, you’re never going to be able to move forward.” 

Malcolm was silent, sitting and staring once more at the figure just past Simon, he took a deep breath. “I was….raped and...stabbed and...he told me something,” Malcolm whispered. 

Simon leaned closer, “What did he say?” 

“That when I was ten years old, Martin Whitly tried to kill me. My father tried to kill me,” it hurt, it hurt even more than that idea of the rape or that he’d taken a life. 

Simon pursed his lips for a moment, “Well, that's terrible, but you knew he was a predatory psychopath.”

“I know... my rational overeducated mind understands who he is. But the child in me thought he cared,” Malcolm sighed, looking away for a minute, “Loved me even. Now I can't see that anymore. All I can see is me. Age ten, Dead.” He whispered as he stared at the figure of himself that now stood inches away from him. 

“And you mean that literally, don't you? You are hallucinating.” 

Malcolm didn’t reply, instead, he just gave Simon a single nod. Simon clicked his pen, jolting Malcolm from his vision, pulling him back into the present. “You’re not going to sign off on me working here, are you?” Malcolm asked. 

Simon sighed, “Malcolm, do you remember escaping your confinement?” 

“Yes,” Malcolm answered quietly. “I...was hallucinating, partly because I was off my meds, but partly because of the trauma as a whole.”

“Do you remember what you said happened to Watkins?” 

“I...I said I knocked him out and we stuffed him in the trunk,” Malcolm replied, tears in his eyes. 

Simon nodded, “Malcolm, what really happened?” 

“I killed him,” Malcolm whispered, “I killed him and...I was so relieved that he was gone,” he sobbed quietly. 

“Take your time,” Simon encouraged, “It’s okay to be relieved that you stopped someone who hurt you, was hurting you and would’ve killed you and your family.” 

“I don’t want to be like him,” Malcolm choked. 

Simon stood and came over around the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down directly next to Malcolm, turning the younger man to face him. “Malcolm, there is a very big difference between  _ wanting  _ someone dead and  _ murdering  _ them are two  _ very  _ different things. Malcolm it was self defense, I promise you. You are  _ nothing _ like your father. These tears, do you think he ever once shed tears for a single victim?” 

Malcolm glanced up, before he shook his head, “No.” 

“You need help Malcolm, you're very intelligent and your friends here care about you. You need real help, Malcolm, not just a coping mechanism. So no, I’m not approving you to work on the team yet. Yet, I want you to take two weeks of uninterrupted time off. Go somewhere, take your boyfriend, Derek. Your friends say he’s good for you.” 

Malcolm gave Simon a slight smile, “He is.” 

“Take two weeks, a full two weeks, no exceptions. Once you’re back you can report for duty, but you have to come to see me once a week for at least six months. Those are the conditions, can you live with those?” 

Malcolm felt the relief fill his heart, “Yeah, I can live with that,” he whispered. 

“Good, in that case, you’re free to go and I’ll see you in two weeks. My assistant will call and schedule your first appointment,” Simon supplied as he stood and began putting his stuff away. “And Malcolm, I’m serious, a full fourteen days, no exceptions. If you return prior to that I will not sign off of your return, understood?” 

“Yes, thank you, doctor,” Malcolm replied, as he stood and shook the man’s hand before turning toward the door. 

“Malcolm,” Simon called before Malcolm stepped out of the room. He waited until he saw the young man was looking at him again. Stepping closer, Simon considered his words for a moment. “I know you feel like you lost a part of yourself, and you did, you won’t ever get it back and you may have to defend yourself again someday. One of the things that could help your heart catch up to your head is forgiveness.” 

“I need to forgive myself,” Malcolm replied softly. 

Simon nodded, “Yes, but not just yourself. There’s someone else you may need to be willing to forgive. By forgiving him, you may find yourself able to move past all of this trauma.” 

Malcolm froze, “My father?” 

Simon nodded once more before he stepped out of the small room. 

Malcolm watched as Simon briefly stopped to talk to Gil, before making his way out of the station, casting one last glance back at Malcolm. JT and Dani stepped into the conference room, “Well?” Dani asked. 

“Two weeks mandatory leave, then I can return as long as I continue to see him once a week for six months,” Malcolm supplied. He jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and over to see JT standing at his side. 

“We got your back, man. No matter what. Your spot will be here until you get back,” JT stated, which Malcolm had to chuckle sounded a lot like a confession of love from a man who barely talked. 

“Thanks, I guess I should go home and start packing,” 

Despite the short notice, Derek had managed to secure two weeks off of work, albeit he’d be working a lot when he returned and would owe a number of favors, but he figured it was worth it in the end. He had one final shift left, he’d be off at nine the following morning, then he and Malcolm were headed to Tahiti. Malcolm spent most of that evening packing for himself as well as Derek who had sent him a full list while he was cleaning the fire station of what he’d need. 

o0o

By the next morning, while Malcolm wished they were staying here in New York, he was more than a little excited about the possibility of going on his first vacation with Derek. 

He’d managed to dismiss the comically Germanic nurse and was now munching on some toast listening to his sister’s newscast when there was a knock on the door. “Join me tomorrow night for exclusive coverage of Cal Taylor's wedding. Scion of the legendary Taylor family, the evening promises to deliver glitz, glamour, and all the gowns.” Jessica pushed the door open a moment later, smiling at the sight of her daughter on the TV before looking at Malcolm. 

Malcolm sighed, “Good morning, Mother.” 

“Darling, I am so excited you are finally going on vacation. I brought a bon voyage gift,” she replied, holding up the suit hanger.

Malcolm eyed it nervously before he graciously accepted it and went into the bathroom. Opening it he was horrified to see the very bright and white suit before him. He heaved a sigh, realizing there was no way out of this before he put it on and stepped out in it. 

Jessica gasped in delight, “You look wonderful.”

Malcolm glanced down at himself, before looking back at her ruefully, “Do I?”

“For an island vacation? Definitely. Oh. I swear, the last time I had to fly commercial, I felt like I was on the last chopper out of Saigon,” Jessica groused as she pulled his jacket down, trying to flatten out imaginary wrinkles. 

Malcolm rolled his eyes while she wasn’t looking, “Yes. Flying commercial, on your own personal plane, is just like flying out of Vietnam,” he mused. 

“Oh, joke all you want, but this is important. You have been consumed by your work and your father and all this murder,” her phone buzzed, she paused to look down at it. 

Malcolm sighed, “I'll admit, I've been through some stuff, but I'd be perfectly fine with a little staycation here in New York.”

Jessica scoffed, “Oh, no. Wrong island, dear. You are gonna be sipping daiquiris and listening to the waves and sleeping in a hammock. Restrained, of course. Now, come on, your ride is waiting,” she instructed. 

Malcolm paused, “No, our flight's not for hours, and we can take a cab.”

“Oh, no. I have arranged something far better,” she replied, her eyes alight with delight, Malcolm turned and looked out his window to see Gil standing there.

Shaking his head Malcolm made his way downstairs, he absolutely wasn’t going to have Gil drive him to the airport eight hours before his flight without Derek. All the same, he figured once around the block wouldn’t hurt anyone and would likely get his mother off his back, so she walked down the stairs and stepped outside, “My mother called in a police escort?”

Gil snorted as he looked at the sight of Malcolm in the painfully white suit, “Kid, I'd drive you all the way to Tahiti if I could.” He waited as Malcolm ducked into the passenger’s side before he went around and took his seat on the driver’s side again, “Nice suit,” snorted Gil, before he paused and looked at Malcolm again, “I'm proud of you.” 

Malcolm’s eyes widened, “Why is everyone acting like I'm deploying to a war zone? I'm going to a resort. With my boyfriend.” 

“And that's a good thing. We all just want you to be happy. Do you know how to do that?” Gil questioned with a grin, “Once around the block then I’ll bring you back til noon?” 

“Yeah, sure. And yes I'm familiar with the concept,” Malcolm replied with only mild scorn. 

Before Gil could pull away from the curb the familiar crackle of his radio echoed through the car, Attention all units. We have a 10-54 DOA at 328 Pearl Street.” Dispatch called out. 

Malcolm’s eyes widened in excitement before Gil shook his head and cut off all internal thought, “Forget about it. I'm not taking you to a crime scene.”

“Come on, it's practically on the way. The flight's not for hours.” 

Gil shook his head a second time, “Bright -”

“Look, I'm taking care of myself. But I can still help. How about a quick drive-by, then straight to the airport? In and out. I promise,” he pleaded, his blue eyes wide. 

“Fine. But only because I want everyone to see you in that suit,” Gil replied as he pulled away from the curb. Upon arriving at the familiar sight of tape and squad cars, Gil stepped out of his car, calling to his two detectives. “JT, Dani.”

JT was the first one to speak up, a smirk playing across his features, “What up, Miami Vice?”

Dani shook him off, coming to Malcolm’s side, “Aw, that's no way to talk to a friend, JT. How is everything? Were you able to kill James Bond or--”

Gil interrupted, mildly amused at the attempts of his two charges. “He's going on vacation, down-lo me quick, then we're off to JFK.”

They made their way up the beautiful stairs and into what looked like a study of the home. JT spoke as they stepped into the room, “Our Vic's name is Jules Connor. Former district attorney. Been in private practice for the past decade. This dude was connected.” 

“Talk to me about that camera,” Gil requested noticing the security system in the far corner, while he moved around to look at the body and what he presumed was the weapon on the floor by the small number plate. 

Dani spoke up this time, looking over her notes, “The security system is all in-house and it's all been fried. Our killer covered his tracks.”

Malcolm studied the murder weapon, it was an exquisite piece that was clearly out of its time in a situation like this, “Based on the murder weapon, he had a flair for the dramatic.” When he got raised brows from both Dani and Gil, he crouched down to continue. 

JT, however, surprised him by continuing as he crouched beside his partner, “Double-barrel flintlock pistol. Walnut handle, gold filigree. A real pirate's gun.”

“Dates back to the 1730s. I have two,” Malcolm said fondly looking over at JT who just rolled his eyes. 

“Who invited their coke dealer?” Edrisa asked as she stepped into the room and got a look at Malcolm in the absurdly white suit. She immediately composed herself, wiping away her smile, “I mean, hello. Colonel. I love your chicken.”

Gil grinned, “Okay, now, I'm glad I brought you,” he joked as Dani snickered. 

JT and Malcolm stood back up, while Malcolm made his best not to be amused by how many excellent quips his coworkers seemed to have, “Hello, Dr. Tanaka. I was just on my way--”

“To poach ivory in the Serengeti!” She interrupted with a grin before her smile lessened, “Sorry, I had to do it. Comedy comes in threes. But you can't leave until you see this,” she crouched beside the body to reveal the bloodied arm, that until now Malcolm hadn’t noticed, had a word etched into it. 

“Villefort is a central character in The Count of Monte Cristo. One of my favorite books growing up.”

“Of course it was,” mumbled JT beside him. 

_ “ _ In the story, the Count's life is destroyed by three men, Villefort, Danglars, and Fernand. And he enacts his vengeance on them all. We may be looking for a revenge killer with a penchant for poetic justice.” 

Dani spoke, “And if your profile's right, then two more bodies are gonna drop.”

Gil was quick to jump in as Malcolm turned around, no doubt prepared to cancel his vacation, “We're not gonna let that happen. While you are on vacation,” he said pointedly. 

“What's this?” Edrisa asked while Malcolm turned back to the painting over the fireplace and behind the desk. The click was audible as he whirled around and saw the device under the body. 

“Edrisa!” He shouted as he vaulted up and over the desk in one smooth motion “Landmine!” He shouted as he slapped his hand over the pressure plate while Gil and Dani pulled Edrisa black, “It's a black widow.”

Military JT kicked into full gear, “We got a bomb. Get me ESU, the bomb squad, and the level-one mobilization.” 

“All non-essentials clear the area. Everyone, evacuate now. Edrisa, - Get your people out of here,” Gil ordered. 

Malcolm was only partly paying attention as he focused on any noise that could be discerned as the spring coming loose, they would only have seconds after that happened. 

“What the hell is a black widow?” Dani questioned as everyone else but their team of four remained behind. 

JT, now holding a flack vest, slowly knelt down beside Malcolm, “A Russian anti-personnel mine. Been around since the '50s. Taliban love these things. Keep that thing steady, bro. The only thing keeping this place from blowing is a weak creep spring on the pressure plate,” JT ordered as he placed both the velcro strips in the right place, then stood and backed away. 

Malcolm scoffed, “Oh, good thing I don't have a hand tremor.”

“You're making jokes?!” Gil asked incredulously. 

Malcolm made a mental note to encourage Gil to go on a vacation, he was rather uptight about their given situation. “There's no reason for you to stay here. I can handle this until the bomb squad gets here--” 

“We're not leaving you--” Dani cut him off. 

“It's fine--I--” He felt and heard the telltale clicking of the spring, and then the inevitable ticking before the bomb was about to blow, he looked down in dread. 

“That's the spring. It's activated,” JT whispered as if by speaking louder he would somehow set it off and kill them all. 

Malcolm took a deep and steady breathing, “Okay, turn of events. This mine is definitely not stable. Uh, which means I need to speak quickly. Uh, JT, auction houses will have records of the gun's sale. Gil, the killer, identifies as the Count, which means that the victim would have deemed him inferior or unworthy in some way. And Dani tell Derek---” He paused, they hadn’t said it yet, was that cruel to say it right then. 

“Yeah?” Dani asked. 

Malcolm was sure it was cruel, “Uh never mind. I have a plan. Go!” He shouted. He waited until all three had left the building, before he looked down at the bomb again, “Great. All right. What's the plan?” He muttered to himself before he felt the familiar vibration in his pocket. Brows furrowed, he reached into his pocket and pulled it out. 

CLAREMONT PSYCHIATRIC appeared on the front and he had to bite back a groan, “Might as well go out with a bang. I only have a second,” he answered, not entirely sure why as he thought about it. 

“My boy, it's your father. I'm back!” Martin exclaimed over the line in delight. 

“Great. I'm, uh--”

“A little busy? I bet,” followed Martin.

Malcolm would’ve shrugged if he could, instead he figured what the hell, “Yeah, just stabilizing a triggered land mine that a Count of Monte Cristo- inspired killer planted in his victim's office,” he rattled off quickly, wondering if his father was about to hear him get blown to bits. Wouldn’t that put a damper on Martin’s fun? 

He heard his father gasp, “Wow. Was the first victim Villefort? Or W--uh, wait, you're-you're holding a live mine?”

“Yeah, everyone cleared out. It's just me. Thinking of a really bad plan and, um saw you called,” Malcolm explained. 

“And you picked up? Why?” The awe and surprise in his father’s voice gave Malcolm a pause. 

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Malcolm lied because the man was still his father and no matter how awful a person Martin was, Malcolm still loved the bastard. “I gotta go,” Malcolm finished before hanging up the phone quickly and stuffing it back in his pocket. 

Martin looked over at David in his cell, “I'd say that went well…” he gasped, “Should I have said ‘I love you’?”

Malcolm’s eyes landed on the beautiful gun, then back at the landmine, across to the window. He calculated the risk, he’d end up with some cracked ribs at the very least, possibly die, but it was only two stories, so maybe he’d survive. Beat the hell out of waiting for the explosion. He released the bomb, grabbed the gun, and ran as fast as he could towards the window as he took a single shot, watching as the glass broke, then shattered as he jumped through the window. 

He turned, knowing to fall on his back would mean a higher chance of survival, but turning gave him the perfect view of the explosion he’d narrowly escaped as it licked up and out the window towards him. He felt like he was falling forever until he felt himself crushing something, glass shattered around him and metal screeched. 

To say the wind had been knocked from him was putting it mildly. Still, he remained conscious, and he didn’t feel entirely worse for the wear, he sat up, realizing what he’d landed on, he grimaced as he looked up and over at his team. JT and Dani both looked shocked, while Gil just stood there, most likely torn between horror at what he’d just witnessed and horror that his beloved car had just been destroyed. “I think I'm gonna miss my flight.” 

TBC


	3. Hope, Patience, and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is the first responder to treat his boyfriend who decided to jump out a window and onto the hood of a car. Meanwhile, Malcolm and Gil argue, and Martin Whitly proves to be useful, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I'm officially about 3-4 chapters ahead of this one so updates should come more regularly now, sorry about the delay, but I appreciate you hanging in tight with me. This chapter really highlights the Count of Monte Cristo episode, for a number of reasons, first off I absolutely LOVED this episode, by far it was one of my favorites this season and as such I really wanted it to be included. Second I wanted the argument we saw in the winter opener between Gil and Malcolm to occur and I felt it worked better in this episode, so you'll see a number of lines from the original episode mixed with some of my own stuff. 
> 
> Also I feel super happy to tell you all that I'm only on finishing chapter 7 on this story and we haven't even gotten to the bulk of the plot yet and it's already 35k words, so get comfy everyone, this will be a long one apparently.

Malcolm tried to heave a frustrated sigh, but all he succeeded in doing was causing his ribs to jostle in rage. He groaned as he felt the familiar and practiced hands of his…partner? Lover? Boyfriend? Derek wrapped another round of bandages across his midriff. Malcolm’s blue eyes drifted from Derek’s unmoving green eyes, which refused to meet his since he’d come upon the scene, over to where Gil now stood before his Le Mans, gently rubbing his rabbit foot between his thumb and forefinger while they loaded it up onto a tow-bed. 

Malcolm briefly wondered if he’d finally done it, finally ruined the best relationship he’d ever accidentally stumbled into. The best two if he was honest with himself. He could feel in the less than steady movements, and unusually forceful way Derek was checking him over that he’d angered both Gil and Derek with this stunt. Would they forgive him? Malcolm assumed Gil would, after all, it was just a car, but Derek was a different story. 

How long before his beautiful firefighter realized that Malcolm was a giant ball of anxiety and stress jittering from one life and death situation to the next? How long before he decided he couldn’t watch the man he cared about risk his life for another time? 

“Derek,” Malcolm opened his mouth to whisper, it came out as a choked whine when Derek’s hands stuttered across a particularly nasty bruise before he dropped his hands away to his side. Green eyes still refusing to look up at him Derek shook his head. 

“Not now,” Derek told him, jaw clenched, muscle working overtime to keep from likely saying or doing something he’d regret later. 

“I’m—“ 

Derek’s eyes shot up and he stepped forward into Malcolm’s space in an unbelievably attractive and slightly terrifying way and suddenly Malcolm could see how easily this man came across as intimidating. “I swear to god, if you say the word fine, I will personally drag your sorry ass home and lock you away in that apartment until you dare to grow a lick of common sense,” he growled his voice deep and threatening. 

Malcolm had to swallow past the familiar wave of panic at the thought, he knew without a doubt, that Derek didn’t mean to bring all of Malcolm’s trauma to the forefront. Malcolm knew that Derek would never have said something so cruel and threatening so recently after Malcolm’s….kidnapping if he wasn’t under immense stress of a situation he never deserved to be put in. 

All the same, Derek must’ve seen a flash of something in Malcolm’s eyes because ice-cold green eyes softened instantly and defensive shoulders sagged slightly. Derek let out a slow breath, dropping his chin to his chest. “Crap, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t—“ 

“I know,” Malcolm assured him, reaching out with his good hand and placing it atop Derek’s. “I know. I don’t want you to feel guilty for being a normal boyfriend in a normal relationship who is allowed to get upset once in a while.” 

Derek chuckled softly, “Nothing about us is normal. But thank you, and I am sorry. I…” Derek looked back up again, this time the anger and indignation were gone, replaced by a calm wave of something entirely different. “You were supposed to be off today, our flight leaves in six hours.” 

Malcolm let a small smile across his features, “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t know there’d be a bomb.” 

Derek had to grind his jaw together to remind himself that it wasn’t polite to yell at someone in public. “That’s not the point,” Derek’s sardonic replied. “Look…Malcolm, I…” Derek sighed and shook his head, “I can’t believe after what’s only been about five or six months, I’m saying this, but it’s true so here we go. I love you.” Malcolm’s eyes widened in shock, but Derek continued on, “I’m crazy about you, in a non-obsessive sort of stalking way, and I’ll do anything for you. But I won’t sit here and watch you kill yourself. So, you do what you have to do to protect people, and be your awesome consultant detective or whatever. But when something like this arises again…just…think about the person waiting at home for you?” 

Malcolm’s eyes, which had remained in a state of shock, couldn’t help the small smile that slowly spread across his face, “You love me?” 

Derek blinked for a moment, and then another, “All that word vomit and you’re still on the fact that I love you?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see JT rolling his eyes and head skyward, no doubt wondering if these two could get any dumber. 

“I felt like that was the most important point,” Malcolm offered in return. 

Derek pursed his lips, he opened his mouth, then shut it again, a pattern he did twice more before he gripped Malcolm’s good hand in his. “I do love you, so much that sometimes I forget to breathe. I love waking up next to you and going to sleep with you on my mind at night. I love going out to fancy dinners because you think it’s a requirement, I love staying in and eating take out in our socks and shorts because we’re too lazy to get dressed. I love making fun of The Great Bake Off and Kitchen Nightmares. I love every moment with you, Malcolm. So yes, it is an important part. But maybe the more important part is that I hope from now on you know when I run into a burning building, or a dangerous situation, that you’re the first thing I think of, not because it holds me back, but because it reminds me I have something bigger to come back to. That’s what I’m asking you to do in these situations. Ask yourself, will whatever you’re about to do take you away from me? If the answer is yes, ask yourself can it wait just a few moments, can you wait for backup, can someone else do it, is there anyone else more qualified to do it. Because I’m in no hurry to see you die.”

“Are you two done with your heart to heart, because I’ve got some of my own shouting to do,” Gil interrupted before Malcolm could reply to the firefighter and medic. 

Derek smirked while Malcolm just shook his head, knowing there was no way he was getting out of this. “I have to get back to work. I assume you’ll be staying to solve this case. I’ll work on getting us another flight,” Derek offered before he leaned forward and captured Malcolm’s lips in a kiss. 

Malcolm leaned into the kiss, pulling Derek a little closer, so their chests were together, he poured every ounce of his own love into the kiss, every feeling and emotion he held for this beautiful man who’d fallen into his lap. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he’d do whatever he had to to keep the man around. “I love you, too,” Malcolm whispered. 

It was Derek’s turn for his pale green eyes to widen, “You do?”

Malcolm nodded, “I mean I assume that’s what I’m feeling, it’s like this weird warm fuzzy feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time—“ 

“Okay, we’re leaving,” JT called out, as he grabbed Malcolm’s bicep, “Come on Casanova you two can profess your love later, we’ve got a weirdo to catch.” 

“Weirder than me?” Malcolm shot back. 

“Bro, no one is weirder than you,” JT replied, a hint of fondness in his tone. “Later, D.” 

“Bye guys.” 

o0o

Malcolm, JT, and Gil all stood around the conference table, Malcolm looking between the pictures that they’d taken before the bombing and Gil. JT was somewhat playfully swinging around and looking at the gun which was wrapped in plastic. While Gil stood at the window, still rubbing his rabbit's foot between his fingers. Dani opened the door, startling both JT and Malcolm, JT nearly dropped the gun, before he quickly put it on the table, checking to see if Gil had seen him. 

Three sets of eyes met, Dani’s widening as if to ask him if he was seriously playing with evidence, while Malcolm just smirked. “Edrisa said that gun's all we've got left from the crime scene. Nothing else was salvaged,” Dani explained, shooting another look at JT. 

“Please don't rub it in,” Gil spoke, trying not to sound completely broken. 

JT rolled his eyes, “It's just a car, boss--”

Gil held up his hand, the rabbit’s foot hanging off his middle finger, he didn’t look at the detective, just continued to stare out the window. “Stop. Right now.” He dropped his hand, pocketing his useless keys, before turning and look at the trio, “Bright, talk to me about The Count of Monte Cristo.”

“Well, the story begins on the 24th of February, 1815 in Marseilles, when a three-masted ship - named the Pharaon,” Malcolm started explaining remembering how much he’d loved the novel as a child. 

Gil had little patience for it, waving his hand for Malcolm to get on with it, “Kid.”

“The Count was in prison for fourteen years because he was wronged by three men. Our killer identifies with that. To him, this wasn't murder. Connor was executed for a crime. His original sin.” 

One of the uniformed Sargents stepped into the office, “Lieutenant Arroyo, there's an Inspector Boville on the line,” he said looking confused. 

“Who--” Gil asked. 

Malcolm sighed and interrupted, “It's my father. Boville was the detective in The Count of Monte Cristo. He must have figured something out. He called me at the crime scene - when I was alone with the mine.” Malcolm explained as he saw JT and Gil exchanging quizzical looks. 

Gil stepped forward, “Why'd you pick up?”

“I was in a weird place,” Malcolm rationalized. “I'll talk to him myself,” Malcolm replied sliding off the table he and Dani had seated themselves against. 

“No,” Gil stated, pointing to the phone and looking back at his Sargent, “Put him through,” he ordered, he’d be damned if he was going to let Martin Whitly take his kid apart piece by careless piece ever again.” 

“The hell you just say?” JT balked at the idea. 

Dani asked over JT, “Excuse me?” 

Gil leaned against the table, “You're gonna talk to your dad, we do it together as a team.” 

Malcolm glanced at his team, before he looked back at Gil, wondering if the older cop had lost his sanity when he’d lost the Les Mans. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Nope,” Gil replied, before hitting the speaker button. 

Malcolm glanced around, trying to take some air into his struggling lungs, “Dr. Whitly, you're on with me and the rest of the team.”

“Really? The gang's all there?” Martin spoke over the phone, clearly walking around his room as his voice got a little clearer at times then more distant at other times. 

Malcolm closed his eyes with a sigh, “I hope you're calling about the case,” he gently prodded. 

“Well, yes. I've been thinking about your body. You know, Villefort was procureur du roi,” he paused, then clarified for anyone who didn’t speak the language, "prosecutor to the king. "

“Our victim was a former D. A. He could be responsible for sentencing our killer to prison,” Malcolm clarified. 

Martin shook his head on the other side of the phone, “Mm, I don't think it's so one-to-one, Malcolm. You said there was a bomb--”

JT corrected without thinking, “Land mine.” Wincing as soon as he’d done it. 

“Ooh. Who said that?” Martin asked, instantly jumping on the new voice. 

“Nobody,” JT answered equally as quickly, briefly wondering if that was why he’d been so terrible at hide and seek as a kid. 

“I don't think the bomb was meant for our victim. I think it was meant for all of you. You know, the police do prosecute for the king. Maybe you should have joined the family profession, Malcolm, by which I mean medicine,” Martin said. 

Malcolm threw his hands up, “Okay, we're done,” he was tired of being compared to a serial killer. 

Gil stopped him, “H-Hold on. Could this be about something the police helped cover up for Connor?” He asked Martin because as much as it pained him the psycho was in fact helping. 

“Oh, that's good. Is that you, Gil? Who else is there? Should we do quick introductions?” The excitement in Martin’s voice was palpable. 

“Dr. Whitly, if you don't have anything else--” 

Martin once again cut his son off, “Now, I would like to discuss the cause of death.”

“He used a flintlock pistol,” Malcolm answered.

“An antique. Oh, how romantic. And intricate. You know, uh, it takes a lot of time and investment to load and fire.” 

Malcolm nodded, reasoning, “Our killer wasn't in a rush. He savored all of this, every detail.”

Martin agreed, “Which is why they may run the risk of being overly myopic, you know, that they may, uh, focus too much on the details and miss something in the overall gestalt.” Dani felt her phone buzz and pulled it out, looking at it while Martin finished. “That's how we're gonna catch him.”

“I got a hit on the gun. The pistol was purchased at an auction last year by William Voight. He's a money manager to the one-percenters,” Dani explained standing as she stuffed her phone in her back pocket again.

“Oh, there's a lady cop? Oh, how wonderf--” Malcolm quickly cut the call off before his father could say something rude or absurd. He waited quietly for a moment, looking at his team. 

Dani looked over at Malcolm, “Your dad seems nice.”

Malcolm chuckled softly and shook his head, “He's not.”

o0o

“Hello? NYPD.” Gil called as they walked into the Voight headquarters. 

“Where is everybody?” Dani asked as they walked through the almost subway looking high rise. The place seemed cold, she couldn’t quite rationalize why anyone would want to work here. 

Before anyone could formulate a reply they all heard shouting, Gil and JT pulled their guns out, pointing them to the floor as they rushed around the corner into another larger room, that looked like it was meant for large meetings or gatherings. 

All four detectives stopped at the sight before them, a single man, Voight, stood strapped and gagged, surrounding him several swords, all poised and ready to fall if he so much as twitched wrong. “The Sword of Damocles,” Malcolm whispered in awe, he noted the name etched into Voight’s arm, but remained silent about it for now. 

“It's another trap and Voight's at the center of it,” Gil supplied as if they hadn’t all figured it out themselves. 

JT and Dani were looking at all the steel cables, no doubt trying to figure out how to get their victim out of this. While Malcolm moved back, removing his dress coat, before rubbing his hands together. Briefly running towards them he dove feet first gliding across the floor smoothly under every wire and to the center. He couldn’t deny the adrenaline rush this gave him. “If we trip any of these wires, the swords will fall, and they're all anchored to Voight. If he moves, he dies,” he tried not to sound delighted at the prospect of what a cool situation this was. It was a literal display of the Sword of Damocles, and an incredibly well done one no less.

“What're you doing?” Gil hissed as Malcolm reached out and touched one of the wires ever so carefully. 

Malcolm looked at Gil as if confused by the question, “I'm gonna save this guy. Dani and JT, get up on the balcony.” He moved around Voight and removed the ball gag from his mouth. 

Voight let out a cough, spitting blood onto the floor, “You gotta get me out of this.” He demanded, trying to stop the violent tremors of fear ripping through his body.

“Good idea. I need you guys to cut the lines, one at a time,” Malcolm ordered looking up to Dani and JT. 

“But what about the swords plunging at our key witness?” Dani asked from above. 

“I'm gonna catch them,” Malcolm reasoned as if it was obvious.

“Bright. You can’t, we have to call someone.”

Malcolm stared up at the man amid all the knives, “I’m fairly sure this is one of those moments where Derek asked me to pause and think if someone else could do it,” he said as he stepped in a little closer to their witness. “Who we gonna call, Gil. The department of falling sword death? That's us. Besides, I'm a two-time silver medal ax thrower.” 

“Silver medal,” Gil mumbled in annoyance. 

“I’m game if you are,” JT mumbled as he and Dani took their spots up where the swords were anchored. 

Gil felt sick, twice in one day, how was he supposed to handle this kid putting himself back in danger so quickly after just being dragged out of it. It made him simmer with quiet rage and fear. Wondering what he’d have to do to make Malcolm realize every time he found himself in one of these positions everyone around him felt like they were being pulled under with him. 

“Start cutting,” Malcolm ordered, looking up at JT, his eyes caught sight of the wire and traced it back to the specific sword he’d need to catch. 

Gil spoke out of impatience for being forced to stand by and watch, “Easy.”

“Here comes number one,” the twang, was followed by no sword. 

Malcolm nodded, making sure nothing was coming, he looked at the second line, which would likely do the same, “Okay. Now two.” He instructed watching JT. 

JT cut the second line again they heard the sound of metal release and recoil before everything settled, a sword shook but little else. Malcolm gave JT a nod, and he moved onto the third one, “Number three.”

Malcolm knew it was coming and he was ready, despite Voight’s cry of fear, Malcolm caught the arm attached to the sword with ease. He let it come to rest in a safe position, before he looked up at Dani, “Now you.” He looked at William as Dani looked for her first line. Malcolm made quick work of determining which one it was, “Okay, William, while we're here, do you have any idea who would do this to you?” 

“No, I-I didn't see his face. He must have drugged me, and then I-I-I woke up like this,” William explained, his voice shaking. 

“Bright, cutting now,” Dani announced as the metal snapped a moment later and the sword swung down across from the first that had fallen, Malcolm bounced forward, grabbing the arm like he had the last one.

Malcolm turned his attention back to William, “You know, your antique pistol was recently used in a homicide.”

“Yeah, Connor. Look, yeah, it wasn't my gun. I acquired it for one of my clients, uh, for a collection, and I-I think these might be his swords, but it-it wasn't him who did this,” their victim reasoned. 

“Got another one,” Dani announced, as she cut the next one. 

Malcolm almost didn’t catch it this time, as he snapped out and stopped the sword from impaling their witness in his stomach. “Oh, God! - Ooh!” shouted William

“Who's the client? Because right now, they look pretty guilty,” Malcolm reasoned. 

Voight shook his head, “You know I can't tell you that.” 

“Is he connected to Connor? Come on, William, tell me before it's too late,” Malcolm warned him, still holding the two swords to ensure they didn’t hit him. 

Naturally, Gil stepped in, “Bright, you can't threaten him,” he corrected. 

Malcolm looked over at him in surprise, “I'm not threatening him, just being pragmatic. This is scary stuff!” 

JT got a nod from Dani and went back to one of his last wires, “Cutting the next line,” he called out. Nothing happened again and JT called out again, this time as Dani cut her last one. “Another one.” 

It swung down, Malcolm managing to whirl and catch it again, “Oh, God! Aah! Calvin Taylor!”

“Your client was Cal Taylor?”

“Yeah,” William whispered, sweat pouring down his face. 

JT looked over at Dani and the two made their way down from the balcony, “There are only two left, and they're tethered to him. We're coming down.”

“Like a deadly 7-10 split. The Taylors,” Malcolm recalled as he continued looking at the remaining wires and sword, “A few years ago, the boat crashed.” 

Gil nodded, he also remembered the story, it hadn’t been one of his, “I remember the story. The official report was that a cook's daughter stole a boat and crashed it, drowned in the sea.” 

“It always stank of a cover-up,” Malcolm muttered.

“Couldn't we talk about this later?” Voight demanded. 

Malcolm raised his brows, trust the elite and rich to be willing to die if it meant covering up a shady deal made in the past, “Hopefully,” he replied sarcastically. He looked over at Dani, “You cut, I'll catch.”

Dani gave him a nervous nod, before casting a quick glance at Gil and then reaching over to the wire, “Okay, here it comes.” The sword released wasn’t the front one, instead, it was the back, Malcolm wasn’t paying attention as he shot out to grab the back one, his legs running into the last wire and tripping it. 

William shouted as the sword came to an abrupt halt, inches from his face, JT holding onto the handle, having caught it just in time. Everyone in the room let a breath of relief as they settled and started to release William from his confines. “So is now a good time to talk?” 

o0o

Gil found Malcolm standing in Gil’s office, looking at the victim board as if trying to unravel something in his mind. Gil swiftly interrupted and went to grab the kid, “Ernesto hasn't confessed yet, but he will. Thank you for your help.” He could tell Malcolm had a feeling it wasn’t over, the manic look on his face, the way he was twitching and fidgeting. 

“No problem. But he definitely did it, right?” Malcolm asked. 

“Yes, and we got him,” rationalized Gil as they walked towards the door. 

“I don't understand it. What was his plan? And what drove him to these lengths? It--” 

Gil scoffed, “Doesn't fit your profile? We got this. Come on, Bright, you promised. I was right, from the beginning, you’re in no state to work a case. I brought you onto the team because you’re the best at what you do. But not when you get like this,” Gil stated looking at his kid. 

“Like this!” Malcolm countered, angry suddenly after everything he’d been put through, after being sidelined, “I’m like this because of my father, Because of John Watkins. Because of you!” The word slipped from his lips like an accidental nudge of a vase, toppling onto the floor with a shatter of a heart that could never be fixed quite right again. 

“What?” Gil asked in disbelief. 

Malcolm couldn’t stop his brain, it hadn’t caught up as he spewed words to drive the wedge deeper into his mentor and father figure’s heart, “I’m like this because you brought me back, gave me this case! You knew I couldn’t say no!” 

Gil’s face went white for a minute, and Malcolm saw the agony his words had caused, instantly feeling like a little child who’d screamed he hated a parent and then instantly wished they could sweep up the damage and pain after such cruel words. “Get the hell out of my precinct,” Gil whispered in barely concealed rage before turning and marching into his office, his door slamming behind him, rattling the other doors and windows, leaving all eyes on Malcolm. 

He’d tried to stop himself, tried to take them back, tell Gil he hadn’t meant it. He felt mounting panic at the realization of what he’d just said to the man he’d loved like a father for the better part of twenty years. Had he just lost the only other person he’d ever truly trusted. 

Anger, mixed with unfathomable love, and heartache warred in his heart like a raging sea storm, crashing against the mooring of his emotions, threatening to tip them over the edge any second. 

He had to leave, had to walk away, run away, get away from prying eyes. His stomach started revolting and he raced out of the bullpen as fast as his legs would carry him. His mind was racing, his heart trying to pound out of his chest. He needed to go somewhere, do something, be useful. His mind went back to the estate, and he focused his attention on getting there, on finding a train. He’d let the team realize he was gone on their own. He didn’t deserve their worry, but he didn’t have it in him to spare a second thought to the man he just verbally destroyed. 

Then his brain paused on another person. Honed in like a well-tuned sniper rifle and he narrowed his eyes, letting his legs carry him in the opposite direction. 

o0o

“Malcolm! My boy, to what do I owe the pleasure, I was starting to think you didn’t want to talk anymore,” Martin beamed as his eldest child stepped into the room. But instantly the father could sense something was off about his boy. David didn’t return to the room. And for the first time in years, Malcolm stepped over the red line and advanced towards Martin. 

His eyes were gleaming with predatory rage, unlike Martin had ever seen before, well…other than when he’d stabbed Watkins. “Malcolm?” 

“You tried to kill me,” was all he said, his voice deeper than usual as he tried to catch his breath from racing here. 

“What?” 

“You tried to kill me, that’s why you took me to the cabin because I’d figured it out.” 

Martin’s brows came together in shock, “What, no…no,” he stuttered as he looked around for a way out of this obviously bad situation. 

“Don’t LIE TO ME!” he screamed at his father, “You did this to me! You’re the reason I’m like this! You and your manipulative, narcissistic ways! You twist me and use me to your own benefit and when I cease being beneficial you decide to kill me!” 

“I didn’t touch you!” Martin snapped in return. 

“LIAR!” The man’s face was red, raw with rage and Malcolm just stared at his father with newfound power over the man. “Liar.” 

Martin took a slow deep breath and took a step back, separating them a bit further, ironic given that he was the one chained to the wall and Malcolm would be able to access him anywhere. “I…I…The chloroform wasn’t working anymore. We got up there and…I couldn’t do it. Doesn’t that count for something?” 

“Not when the only reason you didn’t is that you’re weak,” Malcolm snapped back. “How could you? All I ever did was worship the ground you walked on! I worshipped you!” 

“I know!” Martin finally shouted in return, he paused, as he moved over and sank onto his bed, shoulders hunched, and hands shaking. “I…know.” He looked back and up over his shoulder to his child, “Malcolm…nothing I’m ever going to tell you, ever will justify my actions, will justify what I did to those people I killed, to you and your mother, to our family. But amidst all that evil and cruelty that I showed, there was one common theme. I did love you all, with my entire heart and soul and yes I know, coming from a serial killer that’s probably not worth a hill of beans, but it’s true.” 

“How could you say that and have done those things to me?” Malcolm asked as he sat in the chair from his father’s desk, looking at the man, he scooted a little closer. “Did…did you stop loving me?” 

“Malcolm, my…” he stopped short when he saw the flinch. Martin sighed as he lifted his mattress up a little and pulled out a small photo. He turned it around in his cuffed hands for Malcolm to see. In the picture was an obviously much younger Martin Whitly, in all his surgical garb, in his arms was one tiny little baby sleeping soundly against his chest. “I…” Martin closed his mouth again, tears burning his eyes, “Ya\ou know they always say it’s hard to trust a killer, and god knows I’m a pathological liar, but…the best day of my life was the day you were born,” he murmured his thumb stroking the little head of hair on the baby in the picture. “I was on hour 36 of a 48-hour on-call shift, your mother was unbelievably miserable at just over seven and a half months pregnant when you decided very suddenly you were ready to meet the world, thirty-one weeks. Of course, back then, children born before 35 weeks were considered high risk and premature, even now anything under 30 weeks is considered to be premature.” 

Malcolm had never heard this story, his parents never actually spoke about his birth, “Why was I early?” 

Martin shrugged, “There are many reasons when it happens, in your case you were clearly in a hurry and you’d suffered a partial tear of the placenta, they had to deliver you, or we’d risk you and your mother’s life.” He sighed, looking back down at the picture, “It was…” he shook his head, “I watched you fight to come into this world and to stay in it. From the moment you were conceived. We’d had a miscarriage before you, which is painfully normal, but still. Your mother was terrified she’d have another. She was twenty-two, still young enough to have children but, she was sure she was half in the grave with how long it took to conceive you. Anyway, your mother was raced into the OR, and I was pulled from it, for the first time in my life I was forced to stand back and watch someone operate on the two people I loved most in the world.” 

Martin’s eyes drifted back up to the beautiful blue ones he’d inherited from his mother, “I didn’t kill you, Malcolm, because suddenly I remembered what it had felt like to face your death again and I realized I’d have rather killed myself, or turn myself in, than watch you die. I made a choice, let you remember and risk you turning me in, overtaking away my favorite part of being a parent. My beautiful little boy.” 

Malcolm felt the tears trickle down his cheek as he looked down at his steady hands, then back at his father, “I wanted to die when he told me that. I’d have done anything to make it a lie.” 

“I’m not a good man, son. Hell, I’m probably not even a decent man or father. I’m a monster, everything I ever told you didn’t exist or that I wasn’t. But there’s one thing above all of those that I will always put first and foremost, and that’s you and your sister’s lives.” 

“I want to believe that,” Malcolm murmured. 

Martin held the photo out to his son, “Malcolm, I can’t go back and undo all the things I did, all the ways I ruined your life and childhood, and honestly I’m not sure I would, I was…something inside me was broken. I don’t know maybe my mother loved me too much or not enough, maybe I have daddy issues, but the point is that while I may indeed be a terrible human being, and a wretched excuse for a father, all those times when I was trying to teach you things, show you, read to you, help you learn, I was doing that because I loved being your dad.” 

Malcolm was silent for a few minutes, his body vibrating silently with an unfamiliar urge he hadn’t felt in nearly twenty years, “You destroyed me, you…I’m haunted by your victims, by your actions and your final words to me. I…I want more than anything to go back to being your son, to loving you without pause, but I’m terrified of you. I sit here constantly at war with the voices in my head that want nothing more than to hug you and pretend none of it ever happened, with the voices that never want to see you again.” 

“Malcolm…I…” Martin took a slow breath, letting it out unsteadily, Malcolm glanced up and realized his father had tears in his dark brown eyes. “I’m not a good man, I’m obviously a narcissist, and self-centered and yes I’m very selfish because the idea of you walking out that door and never coming back makes me hurt in ways you can’t even begin to fathom. But…” he breathed out once more, “If you do in fact…feel you’d be better off…I….” He closed his mouth tight, lips straight-lined and pulled tight, as he looked down at his hands, all too aware of the tears dripping into his beard. “If that’s what you need, then as your father, I will do my best to support that.” 

Malcolm surprised Martin, by standing and moving over to the bed, he stared at the man for a long moment, “I…” Malcolm closed his eyes, biting his lip to keep from openly weeping in his father’s arms. “I just want it to be better,” he choked. 

Shaky hands reached up and gently traced his cheek, jaw, and chin, “My dear boy,” Martin whispered. “We can work on it, we can make it better. I can try harder to be a better man, a better father.” 

Malcolm grabbed his father in a hug and instantly buried his face in Martin’s shoulder. Martin felt a wave of relief, unlike anything he’d felt for ages as his hands were trapped between him and his eldest child. He gently pressed his hand to the boy’s heart, hoping Malcolm could feel him there. “I love you, Malcolm. So much and the idea that I could ever hurt you was a foolish one, forgive me.” Martin was quiet for a moment, “I thought I was going to die when Gil told me you’d been captured by Watkins. I’d rather you be alive out there anywhere else than dead.” 

“I love you too...dad,” Malcolm murmured. “I…I’m going to go away for a couple weeks, with Derek, try and clear everything away.”

“Derek, he’s your…man?” 

Malcolm chuckled, “Yeah.” 

“And he…he treats you right?” Martin knew how stupid that had to sound considering he was the man who’d damaged Malcolm in the first place. What right did he have to feel protective over his child? 

“He does, and I think Gil would kill him if he didn’t.” 

Martin chuckled, “I hate that man for taking my place, but I can’t say it isn’t deserved. He’s done right by you.” 

“I just hurt him.” 

“How?” Martin asked. 

“I told him this was his fault. I didn’t mean it, I just…I feel so overwhelmed by all these…feelings and thoughts and nightmares I…I can’t get a moment’s peace in my own head. I snapped at him, and…I think…what if he hates me?” 

Martin chuckled softly, “Malcolm, I don’t know how to break this to you, but Gil isn’t the kind of man who is going to stop loving you easily.” 

Malcolm’s brows drew together, “But…” 

“I promise you, apologize, he will forgive you. He’s a good man and he loves you with every fiber of his being. He needs you nearly as much as you need him, trust me. I’ve seen what a protective father looks like, and he was every inch the protective papa bear Gil when he came crashing in here demanding to know where you were.” 

Malcolm gave his father a small smile, “Thanks, I’ll talk to him. When I get back…can we maybe talk about boundaries and…figure something out?” 

“I would like that, and I will do my very best to respect the boundaries you put in place. You should go home and get some rest, for now, you look exhausted.” 

Malcolm smiled a little wider and nodded, “I will, but first I need your help,” he explained. Martin watched his son, his heart aching to protect his boy. He wanted so badly to be there for his eldest child, for both of them really. He just wasn’t sure how best to fix what he had done to Malcolm. Perhaps the answer was to start by doing exactly what he promised, respecting what his son put in place. He would do that, nodding he listened to Malcolm explaining the entire case.

“I-I got to say, I don't like Ernesto for this, either,” Martin told him after a few minutes as he sat back looking at his son.

“I agree, but, why?” Malcolm asked. 

“Where are the intangibles? The passion, the finesse. The joie de vivre. Killing people is not easy, believe you me.” 

Malcolm nodded, “You're right. Where's the drama in this story? 

“Well, I'll tell you. Between father and son. George Taylor always wanted his son to live, uh, a certain life, even if Cal didn't agree. And according to Page Six, Cal has felt trapped by his family for years," Martin explained.

“If George is forcing Cal into a life he doesn't want marriage without love that could cause anyone to snap,” Malcolm reasoned realizing what his father was getting at, “You think Cal is going to kill his father.”

“Well, I mean, I could be projecting. But he certainly has a motive. Add to that a classical education, enough time in the Army to learn about land mines,” Martin held his hands out, it was in fact all there.

“He could be showing off for his father,” Malcolm replied. 

Martin nodded, “An almost narcissistic display of premeditation.”

“Which means his final act of justice will be delivered in the most public way possible…” Malcolm’s eyes grew wide, “The wedding. I’ve gotta go!”

Hurrying out of Claremont, he stopped short when he saw Dani sitting in her car, waiting for him. Sighing, he walked down the steps toward her car. “We need to stop that wedding,” he told her. 

“What, why?” 

“I’ll tell you on the way.” 

TBC


	4. Healing in Tahiti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter, but a huge step forward for Malcolm.

In the end, they’d caught the killer, mom had finally realized her son enjoyed saving people and Malcolm got to come home after a cold night to shower and get ready to leave for his flight. 

Derek was already home when Malcolm stepped inside, “Hey, wow...you look amazing,” Derek whispered as he eyed Malcolm in his tux. 

Malcolm chuckled, “Thanks. You know, I’m ready for a vacation, how about you?” he asked. 

“Very, I’m going to hop in the shower, Tally came and got the dogs already. I’m going to grab a shower, I worked out and I feel grimy. Love you,” he offered before snatching a kiss from Malcolm’s lips. 

Malcolm grinned and returned it with ease, “Love you too,” he replied, appreciating the way that sounded. He decided to check and make sure everything was packed one last time. 

It was several minutes later, Gil knocked on the door to the apartment, stepping inside with his key and smiled as he watched Malcolm rushing around to get everything finished and ready for their vacation. The dogs were with JT and Tally, though Dani had put up quite the fight to get her niece Athena, ultimately JT had reasoned that they needed to stick together. Malcolm had asked his sister to come to check on Sunshine, which she had gladly agreed to, and she had a key now. They had their luggage in the front of the small loft, and Malcolm was fussing over something in the kitchen, and Gil could hear water running in the bathroom. “He showering?” 

Malcolm looked up, “Uh yeah, said something about how he didn’t like starting off an airplane ride smelly and sweaty.”

“Well, cars ready when you guys are, I can wait outside if you’d—” 

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm blurted out, like a child terrified of losing the love and respect of his father. “I…” Malcolm took a deep breath, holding it for a second before he looked back up at the man once again. “I’m…hurting. More than I can even begin to express. Some days, I’m doing fine, I forget it happened, but then I close my eyes and suddenly I’m chained there again. I’m sorry I blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault, you’re the one who’s saved me from those men. I had no right blaming you or putting you in the same league as them.” 

Gil felt the thickness in his throat as his eyes burned and he tried to swallow past the lump that was obviously a boulder and not his emotions. “I think I owe you an apology too,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You weren’t wrong. I knew when I called you…I knew you couldn’t say no,” he looked up and gave his kid a shaky smile. “That’s why I asked, I didn’t  _ want  _ you to say no, I…I missed you, and I was lonely, so I’m sorry, because yes some of these issues you’re struggling with are definitely my fault.” 

Malcolm was silent for a minute, “Thank you, I accept your apology, as unnecessary as it is. I’m a grown adult and I could’ve said no. Maybe I was as lonely as you were.” 

Gil smiled, “Mean that?” 

Malcolm let out half a sob and half a laugh before he moved around the island and moved to stand before Gil, “I missed you too. Nothing has felt right since…since,” he shrugged. 

Gil’s own face winced in familiar pain, as he reached out and pulled his kid into his arms, “I know, I miss her too.” 

The father and son clung to one another like lost ships in the night, “I felt so guilty walking away from you after the funeral like I was abandoning you.” Malcolm whispered from where his head was resting on Gil’s shoulder before he pulled back. “Truth be told, I don’t know how much longer I was destined to be with the FBI. Something was calling me back to New York. I’m glad I came home, I really am.” 

“Me too,” Gil whispered. They stepped apart as they heard the water shut off and rustling from inside the bathroom. “So, how are you and he doing?” 

Malcolm glanced over his shoulder at the bathroom door and smiled, “Uh, not sure. I think…I think we’re going to be okay. He told me he loved me.” 

Gil beamed at that, “And?” 

“I said it back, and I meant it.” 

“That’s great, kid.” 

Malcolm smiled, “How did you know Jackie was the one?” 

Gil chuckled, “Oh, that is not a question I can answer in a few sparse minutes. You just…know.” He paused and thought for a moment, “you know how sometimes you used to come over and the three of us would just sit in the living room. Didn’t even have to talk to one another, just being present was enough?” Malcolm nodded. “That’s love, it’s the knowledge that you could say anything, but you don’t necessarily have to or want to. Just being present in the moment with one another. Ultimately, trust your instincts kid, they’ve almost never been wrong.” 

Derek stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, a pair of comfortable swears loosely on his hips, the NYFD emblem on the thigh, and was rubbing a towel through his head. “Am I late?” he asked, looking worried. 

Malcolm chuckled, “I wouldn’t worry, Derek. Mother practically owns the plane I doubt they’d leave without us.”

“Your mother owns a plane?” 

Malcolm smirked and shrugged, “Among other things.” 

o0o

A thirty-six-hour flight later, followed by a long nap and a solid meal later, the two men found themselves lying on the beach. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Malcolm asked as they lay on the white sandy beaches of Tahiti, they seemed to have the entire area to themselves as they lay out under an umbrella. Malcolm lay on his back, a book propped up on his stomach, as he balanced the book in one hand and turned the page with his freshly healed hand. 

Derek, who had been in the water a little earlier was now lying face down on his towel, head tilted toward Malcolm, but eyes closed and his sunglasses over his eyes. His back had gone from an olive skin tone to a deep dark healthy brown from the few hours he’d spent in the sun. 

Malcolm half expected his beautiful boyfriend not to reply, but he was pleased when he heard a short grunt in response. “You said you struggled a lot after the fire…how did you…how did you quiet your mind?” 

Derek didn’t reply right away, or move for that matter, “Honestly it took a long time, I know that’s not what you want to hear. But the stuff you’re already doing is the right stuff. Yoga in the morning, taking time to meditate and clearing your mind. You aren’t doing anything wrong, you’ve just been through a lot of crap.” 

“Yeah,” Malcolm mumbled. 

Derek chuckled as he scooted over and gently removed the book from his partner’s hands, “You’re going to get sand in that.” 

“If you were worried about that, then you never should’ve brought it,” reasoned Derek as he gently wrapped an arm across Malcolm’s middle, he remained on his stomach, but let his chin come to rest just above the man’s navel. The rest of his body coming to lie across his lover’s legs. “You aren’t alone in this, babe. I know it feels like you are and that this is something you’ve got to struggle through on your own. But that’s not true.” 

“I know,” Malcolm replied quickly, but then sighed, he let his hands trace their way through Derek’s hair and over his jaw. “At least, I’m trying to remember that. It’s just so easy to get lost in all the chaos.” 

Derek pursed his lips for a moment, “How about this if it ever gets too overwhelming, text me or Gil. Just a word, we can make it a code word. And wherever we are, as long as I’m not in the middle of saving someone from bleeding out, I’ll help you work through it.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, you’ve got your own life.” 

“I think you’re underestimating how little I really have to do with my life, you are literally the vast majority of it.” 

Malcolm chuckled, “Well that’s unhealthy.” 

“Mmmm, is it?” Derek chuckled as he lay his head down on Malcolm’s smooth stomach, letting his fingers trace shapes across his abs. “You know I’m going to marry you someday,” Derek whispered. He felt, rather than heard the sudden intake of air and he lifted his head to look at shock filled blue eyes. His brows furrowed again, “Why is that a surprise, of course, I want to marry you…if you want to marry me…that is?” 

“I…” Malcolm just sat there for a long minute, “To be entirely honest it hadn’t occurred to me that anyone would ever like me enough to want that.” 

Derek rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, before he rolled onto his side, and gently tilted Malcolm to face him, “Malcolm, you are a kind, sweet, funny, good man, who deserves the world. You deserve all the happiness you could ever ask for and more. You deserve to live happily ever after, to find true love. I’d like to think you found it with me. But, no matter who it’s with, you absolutely deserve to get married and be happy. Ecstatically so if that’s an option.” 

“Can I tell you something, something I’ve never told anyone?” 

“You know you can.” 

Malcolm’s cheeks reddened slightly as he started his admission, “Before you, I pretended the idea of being alone forever didn’t bother me. But in all honesty, it hurt, it killed me. Then you came along and a small part of me started to believe, maybe, just maybe I could be happy.” 

Derek beamed at that, “You can be. I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy if you’d let me.” 

Malcolm leaned forward, pecking Derek on the lips, “Not yet, but…yeah, when we’re ready I think I’d like that.” 

Derek yanked Malcolm’s forearm gently, pulling him flush to his side so that he was resting his head on Derek’s shoulder, his hair tickling the man’s ear and neck. “I love you,” Derek murmured, pressing a kiss to Malcolm’s forehead, “So much.” 

“Can I tell you something else?” 

“Always,” Derek answered again with practiced ease as he ran his fingers over Malcolm's scalp in gentle motions. 

“I really want kids.” 

“How many?” 

Malcolm chuckled, “Never got that far, two might be nice, a boy and a girl. But, I don’t know.” 

Derek gave Malcolm a wolfish grin, before kissing his lips again, “I could be down with a couple of kids, especially if they’re ours.” 

“That is impossible,” reasoned Malcolm. 

“Is it, pretty sure your sister has your eyes, and hair, we could probably ask her, and I’d bet she’d be thrilled.” 

Malcolm chuckled, “Please don’t, not yet. I don’t need her and my mother planning for children before a wedding. Mother wouldn’t have it.” He was quiet for a few minutes, as he let the sounds of the waves in the distance gently crashing against the sand ease them into a comfortable silence. Derek’s fingers were still scratching softly against his scalp. 

Malcolm let his eyes slide closed, letting out a sigh of contentment, and in that instant it hit him. This was what Gil had meant. This sense of utter contentment in the arms of someone you couldn’t imagine going without. The pull on your heart like half of your heart belonged to them, the familiar sensation of two hands that fit together as if created for one another. It felt like something inside him had been found and completed. 

For the first time in nearly three months, Malcolm felt a sense of peace wash over him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. As he realized happiness was as attainable for him as it was for every other person in the world. “I love you,” Malcolm murmured, pressing his lips to Derek’s neck. “Can we try having sex?” Malcolm asked. 

The question took Derek by surprise, he considered asking if Malcolm was sure, but then thought better of it. How many times had he said he wanted things to get back to normal. Instead of second-guessing his partner he smiled, “We can, but from what I hear sex on the beach leads to sand in all the weird places,” he whispered conspiratorially with a wolfish grin. 

Malcolm snorted despite the seriousness of the situation. He had seen Derek’s hesitation, had sensed his desire to double-check, relief filled the profiler knowing that Derek wasn’t second-guessing, but rather willing to indulge him. “I meant in our little bungalow,” he replied as he continued to chuckle. 

Derek nodded, “Of course we can, you want to leave this stuff here?” The joy of having a family made of money meant they had their own private little beach and space. They didn’t have to worry about anyone else finding them or taking their stuff. 

“Sure,” Malcolm replied, as the two of them stood, Malcolm, gripped Derek’s hand and led the way, smiling. He remembered what Gabrielle had been encouraging him to do over the last couple of months. She’d told him to masturbate, encouraging him that it gave himself control over the situation. It had been hard at first, he’d hated it, struggled with it, but somehow this felt right. 

They made their way up the sand and across the bridge that led to the bungalow that sat in the middle of the perfectly blue and green water. Derek pulled Malcolm to a gentle stop, pulling him back into his arms for a minute. Malcolm smirked, but stopped, letting Derek wrap his arms around Malcolm’s waist. “It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as they took a moment to look out over the beautiful ocean. 

“Definitely top best vacations,” joked Malcolm. 

Derek grinned, “It’s our only vacation.” 

Malcolm shrugged, “Maybe, but definitely not the last.” 

Derek leaned down, cupping Malcolm’s face, kissing him on the lips gently at first, figuring he’d let Malcolm take the lead, he kept it simple. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt Malcolm grip his hips and pull him in closer, Malcolm deepened the kiss, opening his mouth letting Derek’s tongue sweep across the top of his mouth. 

Derek felt himself hardening and without thinking, he pressed himself and Malcolm against the railing on the bridge. 

It wasn’t instant for Malcolm, he was enjoying himself, he could feel his body reacting, then he felt his back being pressed against something, and feeling of being crowded and instantly he felt his heart stutter, he immediately broke the kiss. His whole body was shaking, he knew rationally in his brain this was Derek and the man would never hurt him. 

“Hey,” Derek whispered, stepping back to give Malcolm some space, “Deep breaths, Malcolm. Look at me,” he whispered gently. 

Blue eyes locked with him as Malcolm continued trying to reel in his panic attack, “I’m sorry...I--” 

“Shh, don’t apologize, it’s okay. Just take a second, look around you, list five things you see,” he encouraged. 

Malcolm nodded, “Lots of water,” 

Derek chuckled at that, “Yeah, what else.” 

“You, uh….our bungalow,” he felt his heart rate starting to slow, the clutch on his lungs loosening ever so slightly. “Mountains...and I guess hay?” he said looking at the roofs of the bungalow. He closed his eyes, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks. 

“Good, how are you feeling?” 

“I want to do this,” Malcolm whimpered, almost angry at himself. 

Derek nodded, he understood, “I know, but you suffered a trauma. You can’t force yourself to do something you aren’t ready for yet. I’m not saying we shouldn’t try, but we stop when you feel overwhelmed, we take it slow. Nothing says this has to happen in minutes. We have plenty of time.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I’m--” 

“Don’t say sorry,” Derek corrected, he stepped in closer. “Let's just move forward together, there’s no one here that’s done anything wrong.” He held out his hand patiently waiting for Malcolm.

Malcolm reached out and took it, together the pair headed to their bungalow. Malcolm took a slow breath, “Maybe if I went first, was in control that would help?” 

“We can do that, I’m all yours detective,” he smiled as he sat down on the bed. Leaning back with his hands behind him propping him up. 

Malcolm smiled at that and moved forward, coming to stand between Derek’s knees, leaning down he took Derek’s face in his hands, drawing him up into a kiss, before he began pressing light kisses over Derek’s face, and slowly making his way down Derek’s neck. He paused over Derek’s pulse point, sucking and licking the spot. He felt Derek moan under him, as Malcolm let his hands fall and slowly traced his fingers down Derek’s side, fingers toying with the edges of his swim trunks. He let his fingers caress Derek’s hips, stroking them gently before he began kissing his way down Derek’s chest. 

His trails left a slight chill as he moved on, Derek moaned, already feeling the blood racing towards his cock as he felt it harden once more. Malcolm’s lips and tongue found his nipple, as he gently rolled it between his lips, pulling slightly before he released it with a wet pop. 

“Jesus why are you so hot,” Derek whispered, as Malcolm pressed him back down onto the mattress. 

Malcolm chuckled as he slowly began to scoot further down, his hands continuing to wander over Derek’s legs and hips, he removed the swim trunks, Derek lifting his hips slightly to allow for them to be completely removed. Then Malcolm moved back up along Derek’s body, pressing their bodies tight together, Derek groaned at the feeling of the fabric of Malcolm’s trunks against his cock.

“So gorgeous,” Malcolm whispered, as he once again pressed himself down against the man beneath him. Malcolm’s hand slipped down between them, he could feel his own erection as he gently wrapped his hand around Derek’s cock. 

Derek moaned as Malcolm slowly began to pump his hand up and down Derek. Malcolm’s control was rapidly sliding and he had to admit the only thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by the man in front of him. “Prep me,” he whispered in Derek’s ears. 

Derek’s eyes shot open in surprise, “You sure?” 

Malcolm nodded, “I’ll ride you, I’ll be on top so I won’t feel held down,” he encouraged. 

Derek nodded, turning over he grabbed the lube out of their bags on the floor. He poured a large amount on his fingers while Malcolm stipped off his own trunks before he resettled across Derek’s hips. He scooted forward enough so that Derek could reach behind him, and slowly started tracing his entrance. 

“Go slow,” Malcolm half whispered and half pleaded. 

Derek nodded, despite how desperate he was already beginning to feel he did exactly what his lover requested. He started out just rubbing his fingers over Malcolm’s hole, pressing the tips of his fingers ever so gently, then back out again. He continued a few times until Malcolm felt loose enough for Derek to slide the tip of his finger in. He pumped slow, in and out, before he sunk it in a little lower, grinning as Malcolm moaned and had started pressing back against Derek’s finger. 

Derek smiled, gently wrapped a hand around Malcolm’s cock, he continued to pump, trying to time it so that he was pulling out as Malcolm was trying to press backward. In and out, in and out, Malcolm moaned as he struggled to keep himself from coming. “Close,” he whispered. 

“You sure, you’re still pretty tight.” 

Malcolm nodded, “I’m sure, feels so good,” he whispered. 

Derek released Malcolm’s cock, lining his own up against Malcolm’s hole, and slowly began to move forward as Malcolm began to settle himself down on Derek’s lap. They both stopped halfway, breathing hard and trying to stop the impending orgasm. “Keep going,” Malcolm groaned. 

“If I do, it’ll be over,” Derek muttered, trying to focus on not ruining the moment before they’d even gotten started. Slowly, he gripped Malcolm’s hips and began thrusting up slow and then pulling out just as slow. 

“Fuck, Derek,” Malcolm moaned as one of Derek’s hands came back to his cock, pumping it slowly in time with his hips. 

“I love you,” Derek whispered with a grin. 

Malcolm couldn’t help but feel like he was soaring, this wasn’t anything like what he’d experienced before, it was easy and felt like he was on top of the world. “That’s it, don’t stop moving,” Derek whispered as he shifted his angle, making sure he was hitting Malcolm’s prostate. 

Malcolm let out a shout of ecstasy before he felt the familiar tight feeling and then he felt the explosion. His whole body freezing and he cried out in pleasure as he felt Derek coming inside him, over and over again. 

“I gotcha, babe,” Derek whispered as Malcolm began to collapse forward. 

“Thank you,” Malcolm whispered as he rolled on his side and off Derek. 

Derek chuckled, before he pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips, then stood to get a towel to wipe them off. 

o0o

Malcolm rolled over, he could see out the window the sun setting over the beautiful ocean. His eyes drifted to the man sleeping beside him. He smiled as he looked at the contours of Derek’s beautifully chiseled chin and jawline, his soft dark brown hair, Malcolm smirked as he noticed a couple of strands of gray at the tips of Derek’s temples. The idea of getting to see him go gray sent a surge of delight and breathlessness through him. The desire to grow old with this man, to watch him age, to watch him become a father. 

Reaching over, he gently ran the back of his knuckles over Derek’s cheek and down his jaw. The rough stubble under his fingers left an insatiable itch that Malcolm long to feel all over his body suddenly. Hazel green eyes fluttered open and studied Malcolm for half a second before a beautiful smile spread slowly across the man’s gorgeous face. 

“Hey,” Derek whispered, still sleepy, as he gently pulled Malcolm in a little closer, wrapping his arm around Malcolm’s waist. 

“Hey, I think I want to grow old with you,” Malcolm told him with a fond smile. 

Derek chuckled as he moved his head forward and caught Malcolm’s lips in a long passionate kiss, each pressing into one another, trying to show one another how deeply loved the other was. “Good, I’d like to grow old with you too,” Derek replied as he pulled away and nudged Malcolm’s cheek with his nose.

TBC


	5. Back to Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm takes a huge step in his recovery, and a new killer is on the loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank anyone who reviews and or comes to read this for your unending patience and understanding. I know I've been radio silent for the past six months, I had to pass my exam. I finally did, today. So as a gift, both to myself and the readers, I wanted to update. I do have more chapters written and will keep working on it as I go. I'm not promising chapters every other day or every week quite yet, but more often than once every six months.

**Chapter Five** \- **Back to Reality**

A soft wet nose poked into his ear, making Malcolm groan as he rolled over to see Derek was still fast asleep beside him, in their bed at Malcolm’s apartment. They’d gotten back yesterday afternoon and had spent most of it wrapped up in one another’s arms watching movies, laughing, and enjoying their final full days together. 

Malcolm felt at peace, he had to admit it was the first time Malcolm could ever clearly remember feeling completely and entirely peaceful. Looking over at the owner of the wet nose, Athena was looking at him, head tilted slightly, tongue hanging out looking at him. She’d grown up, she was now taller and built like a small tank, she let out a small bark of excitement, causing Malcolm to wince when Derek groaned and looked over at them. 

“Sorry,” Malcolm chuckled. 

Derek laughed and shook his head as he rolled over to give Athena’s head a scritch, “It’s fine, we’re both in today anyway. How are you doing?” he asked looking at Malcolm. 

“I’m good actually, really good. Surprisingly refreshed,” Malcolm answered honestly as they lay there for a few minutes. Athena settled happily on Malcolm’s lap. Bones jumped up on the bed, lying at the end of the bed, laying his head on his people’s legs. 

“I love you,” Derek murmured before leaning over and pressing a kiss to Malcolm’s cheek. 

Malcolm smiled, “Love you too, I’m so glad I met you. Thanks for sticking with me through all of this.” 

Derek reached over, running his hand through Malcolm’s hair, “Happy to, don’t worry I have no doubt at some point you’ll have to do the same for me.” 

“Is that how relationships work?” Malcolm questioned. 

Derek chuckled, “It’s a partnership, we’re in this together.” 

Malcolm beamed, kissing the man once more, lingering for an extra moment, before he felt Athena nip at his shirt again. “All right, I’m getting up,” he laughed as Derek snorted. 

Before Malcolm could get much further than two steps from the bed his cell rang, glancing down, he smiled at the name flashing on the screen. “Gil!” he greeted happily as he answered the phone. Derek rolled his eyes and got up as well, heading into the kitchen to start the coffee so Malcolm could start getting dressed. 

_“Welcome back kid, you’ll be glad to know I got IA’s paperwork permitting your return. If you’re ready that is.”_

“Gil, I’m always ready,” Malcolm replied heading into the bathroom. 

“Y _eah, that’s what I’m afraid of. Anyway, we got a case,_ ” Gil explained quickly, briefly describing what dispatch had told him, “ _I’m on my way to you now_.” 

“Okay, I’ll be ready, bye Gil.” Hanging up the phone he made quick work of doing his hair, shaving, brushing his teeth, before returning to the bedroom and closet so he could get dressed. Derek slipped in behind him, surprising Malcolm a bit when he saddled up behind the now at least half dressed detective, and pressed his body against Malcolm’s back. 

Malcolm felt his heart skyrocket for the briefest of moments and shut his eyes, reminding himself it was Derek and he was safe. He felt the arms wrap around his waist, never sliding lower, but rather taking a long moment to treasure the feel of the man in his arms. “You okay?” Derek questioned softly. 

“Yeah, startled me,” Malcolm admitted. 

“Sorry, want me to let go?” 

Malcolm shook his head, “No, I want to try to be normal again.” 

“Mmm, normal’s overrated, I’m on a twenty-four-hour tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he offered. 

“Okay, have a good day at work, be safe,” Malcolm replied as he let the arms hug him a little closer, he smiled when he felt the brush of stubble against his cheek and ear, Derek’s face resting on his shoulder. Malcolm felt so utterly overwhelmed by the feelings of love and trust he had in this man. It was enough to make his chest feel like it would burst. 

“I’m going to miss seeing you 24/7,” Derek murmured in his ear. 

Malcolm smiled, “Considering you see me most of the rest of the time, I don’t really see why you’re complaining,” he joked. 

Derek laughed, “Mmm, I suppose you’re right. All right, I gotta get ready and if I keep standing here like this, that is not going to happen.” 

Malcolm let out a laugh as he turned, unable to resist as he dipped his hand between their bodies, cupping Derek firmly, “Something to look forward to,” he replied. 

“You’re a monster,” joked Derek as he went in for a kiss. Their lips met for a long moment, enjoying the luxury of kissing and exploring one another’s mouths before Malcolm let out a small moan and Derek pushed him back. “Right, work,” Derek laughed. 

Malcolm’s pupils were wide, no doubt like Derek’s and it was clear he was just as wanting as the firefighter. “I’ll see you later,” Malcolm promised. 

Derek nodded, before he pressed a quick kiss to Malcolm’s forehead, “Yes, you will. Now go, before I rip that incredibly expensive suit off you.” 

Malcolm shook his head and pulled his button-down, tie and jacket off a nearby hanger and headed out of the closet, leaving Derek to get ready alone and ungroped. He could help the grin on his face as he finished dressing, he could still smell Derek on him, around him. It was incredible how in only seven months, the man had inserted himself into Malcolm’s life so easily that the detective could hardly imagine how he’d survived all this time without him. 

He turned and looked back at Derek who was now in his dark pants and gray uniform shirt, “Move in with me,” Malcolm whispered, his eyes widening when he realized what he’d said. Had he just ruined it, would Derek call him crazy? 

Derek’s own eyes widened slightly, “All right,” he said after a moment, the grin spreading across his handsome face was wide and almost painful. 

Malcolm felt in awe for a moment that he’d even had the guts to request that, before he could overthink it, he moved over to the door and grabbed his keys, taking the spare one and walked back to Derek. He held it out between his fingers and thumb. 

“You’re serious?” Derek asked as he took the key from Malcolm’s hand, somehow it felt like nothing had changed at all despite how heavy the small key felt in his hand. 

Malcolm nodded, “Yeah, I really am.” 

“I’ll start on my days off. You’re going to have to find room for my books. You realize that, right,” he joked. 

Malcolm snickered, “That and your rather extensive old firefighting tools and memorabilia collection, I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” 

There was a knock on the door before it opened and Gil stepped in, “Good morning boys,” he greeted with a warm smile, “You both look refreshed. How was the vacation?” 

Derek looked back at Malcolm, his eyes filled with a fondness and love that even Malcolm wasn’t sure words could properly describe, “Perfect,” Derek offered softly. “Have a good day, darlin’,” he said pecking Malcolm on the lips, before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Malcolm was left with a goofy ecstatic grin on his face as he looked over at Gil, who was just grinning like the cat who’d eaten the canary. “I take it things went very well?” he asked playfully. 

“I’m not one to kiss and tell, but yeah, things are amazing. Ready?” 

“Whenever you are, kid,” Gil replied, chuckling quietly to himself as they slid out of the house, Malcolm’s jacket over his arm. 

They climbed into Gil’s new car, not nearly as fancy as the old one, it was a Dodge charger, still nice, a sleek black with a blue pinstripe down the center of it. “So, ‘darling’, do I need to stop anywhere first?” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “I asked Derek to move in with me this morning.” 

Gil’s eyes widened in shock, “Wow,” he replied. 

When Gil didn’t say anything else Malcolm glanced over at him nervously. “What, am I going too fast?” 

Gil shook his head and pulled away from the curb, “Kid, first off you’re thirty going on thirty-one, I think it’s safe to say you probably know when you’re ready so that’s none of my damn business. Second, it’s been what almost seven months, you two seem happy and well slated together. I don’t think it’s too soon at all.” 

“So why the look of surprise?” 

Gil chuckled, “Ah, that had more to do with the fact that _you_ were the one who asked. Consider me impressed, I thought for sure it’d be Derek.” 

“I’m capable of making decisions,” laughed Malcolm with a shake of his head. They pulled up in front of a rather nice looking bank. Malcolm saw Dani and JT were already present talking to one another just outside, half a dozen or so people looking mildly panicked, were milling around outside, with a number of officers speaking with each one individually. 

Gil parked his Charger, then he and Malcolm stepped out, “Welcome back, Detective,” greeted JT with a grin as he held out his hand. 

Malcolm was surprised by that, but it was a pleasant surprise as he gave JT something between a high five and a handshake. Dani beamed at him before she gave him a slight shove on the shoulder, “Welcome back, we’ve missed you.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “You were all the ones who told me to leave,” he joked as they headed towards the bank entrance. 

“Well, yeah but that doesn’t mean we can’t miss you. They can’t miss you, I don’t care,” lied JT with a slight smirk dancing across his handsome face. “Did you bring my best friend back in one piece?” 

Malcolm snorted, “Yes. What’s the scene?” he asked. 

“About an hour ago, a guy, by the name of Darius Thompson, came into the bank, all the patrons and employees said the guy seemed to be fine at first. It was after a few minutes of standing in line he seemed to start acting weird.” 

“Weird how?” Malcolm asked. 

“Well, the guy came into the bank like any other person might, everyone said he seemed to be acting totally normal one minute. The next he was having trouble speaking, starting coughing and vomiting and then keeled over dead. Everyone’s terrified they called the paramedics and were sure we were dealing with some sort of viral situation.” 

“No one knew the guy?” Gil questioned. 

“Only a couple of the bankers were able to identify him. Every single one of the patrons said one minute he was fine then he started struggling to speak and breathe, looking around in what seemed like panic, then he collapsed. One of the securities guards ran to him while they called 911. The medics initially determined it was some sort of cardiac event,” JT continued. 

“Anyone else showing symptoms?” Gil asked. 

Dani shook her head, “No, the guy was already in cardiac arrest by the time paramedics arrived. They said they administered the usual medications for a cardiac event, nothing seemed to work. When everyone else appeared fine and felt fine, aside from startled, the medics deemed it safe for others to enter.” 

“Cardiac event?” Malcolm questioned as he knelt down over the body, looking at the man’s face.

“I take it you disagree?” Gil questioned. 

Malcolm shrugged, “I mean they obviously called us for a reason. Cardiac events don’t usually present vomiting. It’s usually chest pains, numbness in their fingers. While feeling as though they have an upset stomach is normal, it’s usually described as nausea or heartburn, people rarely throw up from what I’ve seen. What about drugs, anything like that?” He asked, glancing up at his team. 

“We’re working on talking to family or friends now,” Dani replied. 

“What’re you thinking, Bright?” Gil asked. 

Malcolm sighed, looking at all the evidence again, the smear on the man’s face of vomit, the obvious sight of the vomit nearby, the man’s pale and still clammy skin despite the fact that he was chilling. “There have certainly been killers who have used poison as their method of choice, though not as common, the methods tend to be used by someone who doesn’t particularly want to ‘get their hands dirty’ if you will. And there can be several poisons that can mimic parts of a cardiac event, but are unresponsive.” 

“Shame or something?” JT asked. 

Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up, “You do listen,” JT just shrugged at that, causing Malcolm to smirk. “It’s possible, though not always and I don’t believe in this case. If they felt shameful for their actions, they wouldn’t have done it slowly, and it’s likely that this individual was poisoned prior to him entering the bank.” 

“What makes you say that?” Gil asked. 

“Someone would’ve seen, and I assume Edrisa would’ve found a mark indicative of the poisoning if it had happened this close to death.” 

As if on cue, Edrisa who’d been looking at one of the bloody spots nodded, “He’s right. There isn’t a single needle mark that I can see in any obvious location. I will have to look further, under the clothes, but I don’t think this individual was poisoned in the bank either.” 

“So what, you think the killer knew he’d go in public?” 

“Possibly, I think the killer wanted a spectacle.” 

“He definitely got one.” 

Malcolm held up his finger, “Actually, this is one time where we shouldn’t strictly be looking for males.” 

“What?” Dani asked. “You’ve always implied serial killers are usually male.” 

Malcolm nodded, “And in _most_ cases they are, but poison isn’t one of those examples if we’re talking about killers who poison there are as many cases of women as men. The fact that our victim is male tells me the killer could be male or female. But as a whole, there isn’t much of a profile to build.” 

“Why do you say that?” Gil asked. 

“One out of five posioners are caught. If there are five of us standing here and we all poisoned one person only one of us would likely get caught. I’d like Edrisa to run a tox screen for all of the typical poisons used, and maybe some of the stranger ones. Once we have the results, I’ll start a profile.” 

“Any theories on what could’ve been used?” JT asked. 

Malcolm sighed and nodded, “A couple of ideas, but nothing definite.” 

“All right, let's get started on this, Dani and JT, go talk to the family to see if they know anyone who’d want to kill him. Also, check for any known substance abuse, we know LSD can cause heartbeat changes. Edrisa, if you could put this case at the front the sooner we can get Bright the details the better.” 

Everyone nodded before they left Edrisa and her team to do their job. 

**The Next Morning**

Every muscle in his body ached, but he pushed forward, his feet pounding against the pavement, his lungs heaving out a breath, sucking in another, sweat had long since soaked through his tank top. He could feel his quads and calves quivering from exertion. Could feel the inevitable cramping that would come from not enough water and too much work. It had been a long twenty-four hours at work, he’d gotten off at six this morning and was meeting Malcolm after his therapy session. There’d been a house fire, just outside the city, they’d reported to it, almost everyone had gotten out, all but a young girl who was blonde. It had left a sinking feeling in Derek’s head all day. He’d been trying to move past it, but he just couldn’t seem to get her face out of his mind. 

Still, the same images kept creeping into his awareness, the familiar blonde would flash through his vision. It was like a punch to the gut, as he bent over and looked out at the river he’d been running by. The puffs of air from his mouth were visible each time he let out a lungful. He bent over at the waist, trying to suck air into his exhausted and abused lungs. 

“Are you dying?” a small feminine voice asked him, he turned his head towards a little blonde-haired girl with a beautiful smile and alarmingly familiar pale green eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect french braid, and she wore a long pale green fleece zip up that made her eyes pop, and dark black jogging pants. She couldn’t possibly be older than eight. Her nose was rounded and a little flat at the end, a trait Derek had seen once before, but he shook it off mentally, reminding himself not to go there anymore, it was obviously the day he’d had.

He huffed out a breathy chuckle, “No, maybe self-punishing though,” he replied, his answer broken up as he continued trying to pull air into his starved lungs. 

“How come you're punishing yourself?” She asked as she gripped the cold metal guardrail that separated the sidewalk from the river. She looked back at him with a disarming, but curious smile and he noticed a front tooth missing. 

Sighing, he sat down on the cold sidewalk, keeping his distance from her, so as not to appear creepy, “Uh, long story, where are your parents?” He questioned, casting an assessing look around, he didn’t see anyone that looked related, there was a young woman, probably late teens, talking to another older teen-- a boy, the way she was smiling and tucking her hair behind her ear, well Derek could figure out that conversation pretty quick. 

“I don’t have any,” the little girl replied casually. 

His eyes shot back to her, brow furrowing, “What?” 

She shrugged, “Uncle Chris says my mommy was crazy and that he doesn’t know who my dad is.”

The panic he’d initially felt at the idea of an abandoned child in the middle of the park eased a little, and he could feel his heart returning to normal. “Where’s your uncle then?” 

She shrugged, “We just moved here, that’s my cousin Allison,” she pointed over to the girl Derek had noticed earlier who was now giving the boy a shy smile. “I think she’s making a new boyfriend,” the little girl commented, her face scrunching up in mild disgust.

Derek couldn’t help it, he chuckled at that and looked at her, “What’s your name?” 

“Zoe! I just turned seven!” she said delightedly holding out both hands with all five of her fingers splayed out on one and two on the other.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Zoe. I’m Derek, and I’m twenty-six,” he replied to her with a small smile, “But I don’t have enough fingers to count that high, sorry. Does your cousin always let you talk to strangers?” 

Zoe looked back over her shoulder at her pretty dark-haired cousin, “Grandpa says she’s a teenager on the hunt, what does that mean?” 

Another chuckle, “Nothing I’m going to explain. What are you two doing out here?” 

“Allison goes for her morning jog, Grandpa doesn’t like the idea of her going alone, so he makes me go.” she looked over her shoulder one more than leaned a little closer to Derek and whispered, “I don’t like running.” 

Derek laughed, hard as he shook his head, “Me either kid, me either.” 

“Then why were you running?” 

“Self-punishment. Well, that and I’m required to be in good shape for my job.” 

She cocked her head a little to one side like a small puppy, “What do you do?” 

He smiled, “I’m a firefighter and a medic.” 

“That’s so cool! You get to ride the fire trucks!” she exclaimed her adorable green eyes wide with excitement, her wide grin brought out two adorable dimples, one on each cheek. 

“Yes I do,” he answered. 

Footsteps alerted them to not being alone and Derek turned to see Malcolm walking toward them in his usual fine slacks and warm wool coat. He held a cup of coffee in his good hand with a small paper bag hanging off one of his fingers. At his feet was Athena, excitedly walking with her human. 

“Puppy,” the girl beamed once more as she knelt down to greet the growing pitbull. Who, in return, gladly greeted her with insistent snuffles and a couple of kisses.

“Making friends?” Malcolm questioned as he came to stand over beside Derek, handing him the cup of coffee and leaning down for a quick kiss. Malcolm was in a good mood, no doubt between the potential murder case he was on, along with knowing Derek was starting to move in today. 

“Yes, I always make friends with strange seven-year-olds in the park,” Derek commented sarcastically, “Zoe, this is my boyfriend Malcolm. Malcolm, meet my new friend Zoe,” he introduced. 

She glanced up from where she was petting Athena, who had taken to licking her face excitedly while her tail wagged, “Hi, I like your dog,” she giggled as Athena snuffled her ear. 

Malcolm smiled in return, “Nice to meet you, and she likes you it would seem. We should probably get going, Der if you want to drop me off before you head to your place.”

Derek nodded, but before he could speak, there was a shout from behind them. 

“Zoe let's go!” the young girl who’d been flirting finally called, seemingly only a little concerned that her cousin was talking to two strange men and a puppy. She came over and reached out for Zoe's hand, smiling down at the puppy. Derek couldn’t for the life of him figure out why this older girl looked so familiar, but the glare she seemed to saddle him with was more than a little daunting. He brushed it off, assuming it was for talking to her cousin, “Did you tell them thanks for letting you pet her?” 

“Thank you!” Zoe replied quickly as she stood and headed off with her cousin, waving back at them. 

Malcolm watched her go, profiler eyes picking up minute details. He cataloged them in his brilliant brain before turning back to Derek. “Still want to move in?” 

“Absolutely,” Derek replied, stealing another kiss. “Let’s get you to work.” 

o0o

Gil was in his office, going over his usual morning paperwork when there was a tap on his door. Glancing up he saw their front desk sergeant standing there, someone standing right behind him. He waved them inside and stood as the door opened. 

The man behind the sergeant was a tall and lean man with dark brown hair and a look on his long face that held no room for levity. “Lieutenant Arroyo, I’m Special Agent Argent, I work out of the Sacramento office. I’m here because a note came across my desk that you guys recently had an odd death yesterday. Someone from the New York office contacted me because they said the case seemed similar to two I had.” 

“So the FBI is taking this case over?” Gil asked he didn’t really want a repeat of last year’s case with Swanson. 

Argent quickly put his concerns at ease, “No sir, my superiors don’t believe the cases are connected, they just requested I come out here, find out more and if there’s any chance they are connected work with the local PD to bring an end to the murderer. Your Sergeant here said that you guys have a former FBI agent on your team.” 

Gil nodded, glancing over at their conference room. “Yeah, Malcolm Bright.” 

“Never met him, but I heard about him. Would it be all right if I joined your team on the investigation?” The man seemed genial enough, harmless wasn’t the right word, Gil knew a former FBI knew plenty about harming people if necessary. 

Gil nodded, “We’ll take all the help we can get. Follow me, my team should be settling into our conference room,” Gil said leading him out of their office. “How many murders did you have in Sacramento?” 

“Two, it’s been almost two months since the last one, so my superiors decided to mark the case as unsolved and requested I move forward with an active case.” 

“Until you heard about our murder today?” 

The man shook his head, “Yesterday actually, we came out here because my father is dying of cancer. We’re going to be here for a few months. When my friend called me, I figured it was worth coming over to check. I don’t know if they're connected, I sure as hell hope not, I’d love nothing more than to believe this guy decided two was enough, but something in my gut says it’s the same person.” 

“Understood, well we can only hope for the best,” Gil stepped into the conference room where Malcolm was going over the autopsy report, JT was staring down at the crime scene photos, and Dani was writing details about the victim’s life looking for anything in that would indicate a killer. 

Chris’s cheeks reddened slightly at that, “We are here for a family issue, I was on a brief leave to take care of something. But then a friend of mine called and I told my office, they encouraged me to reach out to you.” He offered in reply. 

Gil nodded, “Guys, this is Special Agent Argent, he’s here because he thinks our death yesterday morning may be related to a couple of murders in California recently.” 

“Chris Argent?” Malcolm asked as he stood, coming around the table. 

“That’s me, I spoke with Tori, she’s the one who sent me here, told me you were on the case,” Chris replied as he shook Malcolm’s hand. Before he shook JT’s hand and Dani who had come over. 

Malcolm could see his team had questions, “Tori was a friend of mine, we attended Quantico a year apart, Tori and I worked in Washington DC for a brief period of time before she transferred out here to New York,” Malcolm explained to his team. 

“And I knew Tori from college, we both attended UCLA together. She had a lot of great things to say about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“She’s the first,” he replied somewhat sardonically, “You too, where would you like to start?”

Before Chris could reply there was a knock on the door and Edrisa stepped inside, holding the file, “Bright was right, it was poison, the victim had serious amounts of a substance called Aconitum napellus, which given that the usually required amount is 2mg, and his levels were closed to 6mg--” 

“Wait what is aconitum--” JT started. 

“It’s known as aconite, it’s a flower and herb used. It is poisoning in high enough doses,” Chris replied, the dismay in his tone was clear. 

“Aconite, why does that sound familiar?” Dani asked. 

“Oh, probably because it’s regularly referred to as wolfsbane or monkshood, it’s said its one of only a few substances that can kill werewolves,” Edrisa offered, but stopped short when everyone gave her a look of surprise mixed with skepticism, “Which aren’t real.” 

“Realistically, aconite will kill anyone in high enough doses, werewolf or not,” supplied Malcolm with a smirk when Gil glared at him. “What?” 

“Stop encouraging her.” 

“Anything else unusual, Edrisa?” 

“He didn’t drink it, he has a puncture on his lower left hip, based on the size it looks like a needle. I believe that’s how the poison was administered. It would’ve taken anywhere from 2-4 hours for the poison to begin killing him, given the amount probably sooner.” 

“So definitely murder, and by someone, he’d seen recently,” surmised JT. 

Malcolm looked over at Chris, “I take it your victims were killed in the same way?” 

Chris nodded in affirmation, “I had Tori get the names of the first two victims, as well as the case file, and profiles we gathered on them, and brought the information with me,” Chris explained, putting his bag on the table and pulling out a number of files. 

“I say we dive in,” Dani replied as they each grabbed a part of the stack. 

“I’ll order lunch,” JT murmured before he stepped out of the room, followed by Edrisa. 

Chris took a seat at the table, along with Gil and they started going through the reports, Malcolm put up the pictures of each victim on the board, along with their names under each. “This killer has no interest in who his victims are,” Malcolm whispered as he looked over the board, there was a Hispanic looking man, one African American, and the last was caucasian. 

“What do you mean?” Dani asked. 

Malcolm turned, “It’s incredibly uncommon for serial killers to kill outside their own race, almost all serial killers have a specific MO for who they’re killing. Even further, it’s equally rare that someone uses poison as a serial killer for someone outside of family or revenge.” 

Chris nodded, “I noticed the same thing, it’s like he’s…” 

“Hunting,” Malcolm replied, “I don’t think these men were ever targeted beyond serving the purpose of another practiced kill. The killer’s looking for someone specific. Just honing his talent until the time is right.” 

Dani looked down at all the information, “So we aren’t going to find anything in common between the victims?” 

Malcolm shook his head, “I didn’t say that we still need to check, but it’s highly likely that if they have something in common it’ll be one tiny detail.” He turned back to the board, chewing on his thumbnail as he stared at their faces. “As for a profile, I don’t have much, the idea that we’re looking for a revenge killer is likely, but usually with revenge killers, they have a motive in who they kill.”

“How easy is it to get aconite?” JT questioned. 

Chris winced, “You can literally walk into any garden store and buy it.”

“And some eastern herbal shops. It’s incredibly easy because it’s a regular plant. Anyone could grow them. Okay, I have the beginning of a profile,” he explained as he stood up by the whiteboard and the three pictures of their victims. “We’re looking for someone who has recently moved to New York, and it’s likely we’re going to be looking for more victims. While I’d like to keep the gender off the table, I do think we are looking for someone who is at least smaller than the victims, it’s likely they’re using the needle because they can’t overpower someone in physical strength alone. Additionally, poisoners are usually narcissists, they always put their needs first. They want things a certain way and if they don’t get it they’re likely to get angry. The killer has little to no remorse, in fact, I’d go as far as to say they believe they’re making the world better, though that isn’t why they’re doing it. The fact that this is a slower death tells me they’re patient, they don’t necessarily need to witness the death, they aren’t getting any gratification from it like most serial killers.” Malcolm’s eyes roamed over the table before they landed on Chris, he was mentally summing the man up, mid-forties just moved to NY, and he looked incredibly strong. He kept his mouth closed and sat down next to Dani, looking over the material. 

“Then why kill these people?” Dani questioned

“I can’t answer that. What I can tell you is something specific led the killer to this point. They’re either avenging someone or getting revenge for a wrong. They aren’t necessarily killing these people because they see their specific victim in them, which makes this even more dangerous.”

“Because they could strike any time,” Gil muttered, shaking his head.

Malcolm shook his head, “Exactly, two in California shows a pattern they were clearly planning this, to start in New York, it makes me feel like this is a step in the process, but is this the final location of their target, I don’t know that.”

TBC


	6. Our Past Catches up with Us All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm admits his feelings to Gil, Derek opens up about his past for the first time in years, and Malcolm does some math.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been on a mental writing hiatus, trying (and failing) to write my novel. So back to this and 9-1-1 for awhile. I still love this story so much, I smile every time I read it. Enjoy my friends and thanks for hanging on.

**Chapter Six - Our Past Catches up with All of Us  
**

It was later than afternoon, Malcolm found himself sitting in Gil’s office, the senior detective having ordered Chinese takeout as they now sat together. “Something’s bothering you, what’s going on kid?” Gil asked from his spot in his chair across from the couch. Derek had called an hour ago, passing on dinner he said something had come up, Malcolm could tell something was wrong but didn’t push. 

Malcolm sighed as he set down the carton he’d gotten of lo mein, “I don’t know Chris, he seems like a nice enough guy, but I can’t help but state the obvious here.” 

“That he fits parts of your profile?” Gil questioned.

Malcolm just nodded. “I mean maybe I’m projecting ten years' worth of insecurities against the FBI, but…” 

“He did just arrive from California. You’d be stupid not to think about it, but he didn’t have to bring the cases from California. He could’ve just as well left them there. What would the motive be for bringing us more cases to compare ours to?” 

“I don’t know. If we were talking about a normal serial killer may do something like that to get attention, insert themselves into the case. But poisoning people isn’t about that, they don’t want to be noticed.” Malcolm replied, shaking his head. “Maybe throw us off, but I’m not sure that’s it either. I don’t know, something doesn’t feel right about this case.” 

Gil was quiet for a few moments, studying his kid, it looked like the boy had at least gotten a little sleep the night before, if Derek was to thank for that, well Gil would gladly thank the man. But still, his kid looked...troubled to put it mildly. “How are you, kid? Really? You didn’t tell me how the vacation was.” 

Malcolm smiled briefly before he sighed and looked at his food, he desperately wanted to lie and tell Gil he was fine, not to be another burden, but Derek had been teaching him that family was there to ease the burden, to share it. Malcolm hated being honest about his feelings, but maybe that’s what he needed to do.

“Come on kid, talk to me, it’s just us. I’ve seen you, I’ve noticed how you don’t like being alone, I’ve watched you carefully find an excuse to be around me, your mother or Derek. You can either talk to me, Derek, or your mother.” 

Malcolm let out a huffed laugh at that, “Yeah, definitely not my mother,” he smiled, getting a smirk out of Gil as well. “I…” Malcolm sighed and looked down at the bourbon his surrogate father had poured him an hour ago. “Vacation was wonderful, honestly Gil. I’ve never enjoyed and relaxed so much in my adulthood.” 

“But?” 

“But coming back, I’ve started back with my therapy and...I know what I did was self-defense...that...Watkins was going to kill me. But I still feel…” Malcolm sighed closing his eyes against his raging emotions, like a war being fought between the good and evil of his mind. 

With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice Gil had moved to sit down beside him until he felt the warmth of the man’s presence beside him. Opening his eyes he looked up at Gil, “I...I killed someone,” Malcolm whispered, his voice shaking, “I killed someone and I hate myself and I can’t stop hating myself for it. He drugged me with LSD and...and I saw and did horrible things in my dreams. I can’t...I can’t stop seeing them. Gil, I’ve never been so afraid in my life,” Malcolm whispered, his blue eyes watery as he stared at the man. 

Gil didn’t know what to say, there wasn’t anything he could say, so he did the only thing that came to mind, he reached out and pulled the boy to him by the back of his neck. Wrapping both arms around his boy he held on tight. He felt Malcolm’s trembling kick up a notch and then finally heard it, the soft sob. “Shh, I got ya kid,” Gil whispered. “I’m here.” 

Gil could remember the first time he’d ever held Malcolm when he’d cried. It had been eighteen months after his father had been arrested, eighteen months of stone-cold silence, night terrors, barely eating, and a lot of shaking. It had been a bad night in the house, Malcolm had woken up from a night terror screaming like a banshee. Jackie and Gil had rushed into the boy’s room and in a shocking surprise Malcolm had reached out to Gil first instead of Jackie. He’d clung to Gil like a life preserver in the middle of an ocean. Gil just remembered sitting there in the middle of the bed, rocking the weeping boy back and forth for god knows how long, praying that it was enough. 

And now the surrogate father did the same once more, he clung to his boy, holding him as tight as he dares, rocking him gently, talking to him softly, and reminding him he was loved and important. “I hate my father so much for what he did to me,” Malcolm finally whispered, sometime later in a husky and scratchy voice. “I want to hate him, for destroying me...for trying to kill me...” 

“But he’s still your father,” Gil murmured a soft reply.

“I wish you’d been my father,” Malcolm’s quiet admission made Gil’s heart stutter to a stop for a moment. 

Closing his eyes, letting a few tears fall, he pressed his lips to Malcolm’s hair. “I am in the ways that count, kid.” 

It was a few minutes of silence, as Gil let his kid just release the pent of feelings and fears, “Have you talked to Martin?” 

Malcolm nodded, “Yes, but both Gabrielle and Simon are encouraging me to go back to him and talk to him more, tell him what else I’m feeling.” 

“Derek or I can come with you,” Gil offered. 

“I know, I’m just not ready yet, I think. Soon maybe.” 

Gil nodded again, he remained beside the kid he loved like a son, quiet for a minute, “What else is bothering you?” 

Malcolm looked down at his cell, it was a little after five, he had training at seven with Athena and Derek at the dog trainers. “I think something is wrong with Derek, I don’t know what. He was so excited about moving in with me, but yesterday something changed when he was at work, and then he called and canceled our dinner tonight. I know it’s probably stupid, but I can’t help but feel like maybe he’s figuring out what he’s stuck with.” 

Gil scoffed, “I don’t know what’s going on with him and you, but it’s definitely not that,” when Malcolm gave him a look of disbelief, causing Gil to chuckle. “Kid, I’ve seen the way Derek looks at you when he thinks no one’s looking. He’s crazy about you, and not in a stalker kind of way. He would die for you. Trust me, whatever the issue is, it’s not you.” 

“How can you be so sure, everyone messes up in relationships,” Malcolm reasoned. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “They do, but not because they fall out of love in six months, usually because they struggle with communication and because of misunderstandings. Talk to him, Malcolm. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s possible that like you, he thinks he needs to suffer on his own and not burden others.” 

o0o

When Malcolm went to pick up Athena from her dog trainer three hours later, he allowed himself to just sit there and think as he sat there in the waiting room. Typically, over the last seven days, Malcolm had done his best to remain constantly active. He was stuck in a sort of manic state, fearful that if he allowed himself a moment to calm down he’d shatter apart into a million pieces. While vacation had been wonderful and relaxing, he’d managed to spend most of his time in Derek’s company, not thinking about what had gotten them to that moment. Now, sitting here Malcolm realized he did feel broken, but he wanted to heal. 

Something akin to determination filled him, he _needed_ to talk to his father, and he definitely needed to talk to Derek. He wanted a partnership, he didn’t want to be the only person seeking support in this relationship. He had to have faith that Derek would be willing to share. 

He hadn’t been sitting in the waiting area of the dog trainer’s long when the front door opened and a familiar black german shepherd came pushing its way into Malcolm’s good hand. “Hi Bones,” he whispered. 

Derek, wrapped in a warm looking jacket took a seat beside Malcolm, his hands remaining inside his pockets. “Hey, sorry I’m late, we had a last-minute call. How ya doing?” 

“I’m okay, or at least I’m getting there,” he replied honestly. “How about you, you’re usually so composed and put together, but the last couple days...something’s changed,” Malcolm stated, leaving it open for Derek to decide if he was ready to discuss whatever it was.

“Mr. Bright,” the door to the back opened and he, Derek, and Bones were waved into the back. Derek watched Malcolm head in first before he looked down at Bones. The dog's dark brown eyes were studying him, briefly, Derek wondered what the dog would say if he could talk? Would he tell Derek to suck it up, or would he encourage him to talk about all the things whirling around in his head? The firefighter didn’t know how to tell Malcolm he was anything _but_ composed and put together. Their brief interaction this morning had left Derek feeling like he was hiding his own nightmares from Malcolm, in hopes not to trouble the detective further. Derek, of course, knew that wasn’t a good idea either, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around sharing his burdens with someone who already had so many. 

In truth, Derek felt like he was falling apart inside, the call two days earlier had been unsettling enough that it threw Derek into a whirlwind of nightmares and flashbacks, add to that, that he’d read an article about the case Malcolm was working on in the paper, it had left the firefighter feeling like he was uneven ground, and he felt nervous as if he was being watched. Top it off with the fact that he was desperately worried about Malcolm, well, no. Derek didn’t feel the least put together. 

Stepping into the large room in the back, that was equipped with a number of tools the trainer used to teach dogs how to be service animals, Bones at his side, Derek watched as the trainer moved Malcolm through a number of steps with Athena, before asking Malcolm to repeat them with the little pitbull. 

It would take roughly a year to two years to train Athena, part of that was because she was still so young and easily distracted. The other part was just repetition and making sure good habits were started early. 

Derek watched in silence, letting the repetitive process lull him into a calmer state than he’d felt since returning to work. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and his brows furrowed, it was unlikely JT was texting him, he knew they were in training. Pulling it from his pocket, he swiped it open and felt his stomach churn at the unknown number. Unsure why a cold sweat was breaking out as he opened the message, the words sent a chill through him: _Hey baby, did you miss me?_

The panic washed over him like a mighty tidal wave, he felt his heart rate crash through its usual ceiling, his mind reeling, he quickly turned and stepped out of the training area, not wanting to be a distraction. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, he just knew he needed fresh air, his breathing was dangerously quick, he could already feel his brain reeling out of control with questions and fears. 

As he pulled the door to the trainer's open and stepped into the cold February air, he let the sharp chill of the night bite into his lungs to ground him. His chest ached, his head was swimming, it felt like he was on a tilt-a-whirl without a seatbelt. His back hit the brick wall of the building, as he slowly sank down, every part of his body shaking as he tried to wrap his brain around the text. It wasn’t possible, was it? She was in for life, or at least she was supposed to be.

A familiar paw was scratching at his legs, which were folded up to his chest, and out of a familiar routine, he slid them out, as Bones settled himself over Derek's thighs, and Derek looked to see at some point he’d sat down against the brick building, and now Bones lay across him, watching him with concerned brown eyes. 

Slowly, the weight pulled him back from the edge, as Derek took in a slow deep breath, and held it for two seconds, he focused his mind on five things he could hear: sirens, cars driving by, a splash of water as cars drove through the wet roads, shouting down the road where a local pub was, his own blood rushing through his veins and ears, finally, he then let out the breath. He reached out, hands trembling, and pushed them into the dog’s fur, clenching as tight as he dared, and pulled in a few more painfully deep breaths in a desperate attempt to bring his heart rate and breathing back under control. Four things he could see, he reminded himself, his dog on his lap, his tan fingers carding through the fur, some Christmas lights someone hadn't removed across the street yet, the street light turning red. 

“Were you going to tell me something has been bothering you or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice?” The voice startled him out of his usual calming routine, which thankfully had begun working, and Derek looked over to see Malcolm standing there, hands tucked in his pockets, looking caught somewhere between hurt and worried. 

Still occasionally gasping for air, Derek leaned his head back against the wall, “I don’t want to burden you.” His voice was a bit hoarse from the sudden changes in his body, as his adrenaline slowly began to decrease. 

Malcolm sighed and took a seat next to Derek on the cold cement. Looking up at the sky he was silent for a few minutes, trying to form the right words. “After my father was arrested, I spent a lot of time with Gil and his wife Jackie. Mostly because my house seemed haunted by memories. My mother and father had a beautiful marriage, from what I can remember of it, they rarely argued, but I don’t think I can say honestly I ever saw them talk either, actually discuss. Not like Jackie and Gil. I remember one time, I was probably twelve or thirteen, Gil had been dealing with an incredibly traumatic case, someone was killing kids. I could see his eyes and how haunted he looked every night when he came home. But he never talked about it, because Jackie had suffered a miscarriage a week earlier. They were so afraid to talk to one another, to burden one another with their issues, I could see them coming apart at the seams.” 

Derek looked over, “What happened?” he asked, thankful for the brief distraction, even if he knew Malcolm was leading up to encouraging him to talk. 

“One weekend I was over there, getting ready for bed, doing some reading when finally Jackie snapped. She was a wonderfully patient woman, especially with me. But she was strong and didn’t like being treated as anything less. She yelled at Gil, told him that they couldn’t possibly raise a child like me if they were so busy hiding their own crap from one another.” Malcolm smiled wistfully at the memory of Jackie defending herself in front of Gil. 

“Did it get better?” Derek questioned, his hands still petting the course fur of Bones, who's head had now settled on Derek's thigh. 

Malcolm nodded, “Slowly. When I asked Gil later, on a stakeout, why they’d fought he told me, ‘sometimes adults get so caught up in their own misery they forget that the person they care about most is there to help them through the misery, even if it means putting their personal struggles aside for a little bit.’" Malcolm paused, before looking over at the man he loved, he waited til the green eyes met his again, "Derek, I don’t want you to hide your issues from me, and I don’t want you to treat me like I’m going to break apart. Yes, I’m struggling and it kills me to admit that, everything feels so big and overwhelming right now and I…” Malcolm let out a shaky breath, “I do feel breakable sometimes, right now. But I need you to tell me about your pain, your fears, and your struggles, because helping you get through them, is what’s going to help me get through mine. It's what will finally make me feel like maybe I'm not the only person with trauma."

"You're not," Derek assured before he looked back out across the street. He felt the words sitting at the base of his throat, they wanted to roll off his tongue, but he was so afraid to whisper them, fearful that he might scare away the singular best thing in his life. “Can we go back to your place and I’ll tell you?” he requested, if he was going to really discuss this, he wanted to feel safe. 

Malcolm nodded, “Of course, let me go pay, and then I’ll meet you back out here.” Malcolm stood and headed back inside, leaving Derek with a lapful of Bones. Derek studied Malcolm before he disappeared, wondering if what he was about to tell the man would make the man run for the hills, or judge him. 

Twenty minutes later the pair were lounging on the couch in Malcolm’s apartment, while Bones and Athena ate their dinner and Sunshine was fluttering around the ceiling of the apartment. Malcolm had started stocking Derek’s favorite beer in his fridge, it was one of the first things Derek had discovered after vacation, he knew Malcolm didn’t care for beer, he preferred the expensive stuff. But in moments like this, where he was practically lying on the couch, legs splayed out in front of him and beer balanced on a thigh contemplating if he had enough courage to speak about his childhood, Derek was grateful for the little bit of home he’d already found at Malcolm’s before moving in completely. 

Malcolm was sitting beside him, leg tucked up under him as he was leaning back in the corner, sipping a glass of bourbon. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I just want you to know you _can_ ,” Malcolm said softly. 

Derek nodded, leaning his head back against the cushions of the couch, he turned his head to the side, only one light in the apartment was on and it was the one in the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the rest of the place. “I want to tell you, I’m just...scared.” 

“Of what?” 

Derek huffed, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know, I’ve never really told anyone, JT knows parts of it, but even he doesn’t know everything.” Derek was quiet again for a minute, studying the contour of the beautiful man before him. “Remember when I told you my house was set on fire when I was nineteen?” Malcolm remained silent but nodded, “There was more to it than that. So much more.” Derek sighed and closed his eyes, trying to maintain even breathing, “I was fifteen when I met Kate,” her name was spat with a quiet simmering hatred that Derek desperately tried to hide. “I was a freshman in high school, she was twenty-five and she was my history teacher. I was one of seven kids, and I was the middle one. I was invisible to practically everyone. I was compared to my older brothers constantly by most of my teachers, and my mother and step-father were so busy with the younger two and his position that they rarely had time for me. My mom tried, she really did, but seven kids is a lot, and with the majority of them under twenty and still living at home, she was always busy.” He shrugged, “By fifteen I was tired of being from a big family, I wanted to be noticed and I was willing to do almost anything to do it.” 

Malcolm didn’t speak, but he felt a sense of unease growing in him. Derek spoke again, “She was...beautiful and I was a hormonal fifteen-year-old who wasn’t really sure what I liked. She showed interest in me, she was nice to me, always asked me how my day was going. She made me feel...special.” 

“She seduced you,” Malcolm’s quiet clarification made Derek take a sharp breath. 

“I spent years telling myself it was mutual, that I knew what I wanted. But no fifteen-year-old really knows what they want. All I knew was I was getting attention and it made me feel so good. It wasn’t until I was older and started talking to a therapist that they explained it was rape, for four years I let her sexually abuse and assault me, thinking it was love. I was so desperate to be noticed, that I overlooked the shame and disgust it made me feel. I started to hate myself, I became afraid to go to school because every day was the same.” 

“You said four years?” Malcolm asked, trying not to sound horrified, not because of Derek, but because of what had been done to the boy. 

Derek nodded, tears dripping from his eyes, he sniffed, “By the time I was nineteen, I'd enlisted in the Marines, I'd gotten away by going to boot camp. When I came back I wanted to end it, I was willing to do anything to try and stop. There was a guy I met, we’d hit it off, I...I wanted to be with him, I was realizing I liked guys. But I still had all this baggage, and anger and...she convinced me that now that was over nineteen we’d be acceptable.” 

Malcolm could see the shame all over the man's face, disgust for what'd he clearly considered the ultimate sin, and that's when it hit Malcolm. “Oh god, you took her home?” 

Derek nodded again, “My mom and dad were so pissed, but it wasn’t until later that night when Kate had left that my mother told me she wasn’t angry at me. She wanted to know everything, but I wouldn’t tell her. I told her...I…” Derek closed his eyes, covering them with one of his hands and letting out a shaky breath, “The last words to my mother ‘I hate you for ruining my life.” 

Malcolm's heart ached for the man beside him, he reached out, gently rubbing Derek's neck and shoulders, he hated the question he had to ask, he already was so sure of the answer, “That was the night of the house fire? Oh God, Derek, I’m so sorry.” 

Derek continued on, recounting the tale, his eyes far away that Malcolm was worried he was relieving it, “They ruled it as arson, two months after investigation they arrested Kate as the arsonist and killer. She’d done it, turned out that was always her plan. Her family were weapons manufacturers and dealers. She told me, when I talked to her a couple of years later, that she’d seduced me from the very beginning. My family were anti-gun lobbyists. My stepfather and mother were planning to introduce a bill that would have taken away their rights of who to sell arms to. It also uncovered their selling to the enemy. So she took the bullet for the family, and killed mine.” 

Malcolm reached out, grabbing Derek’s hand, sliding his fingers against his palm he squeezed, “Hey, look at me,” he whispered. He waited until Derek had turned his beautiful eyes toward him. “None of that was your fault, she used her control and power over you. You were just a kid," he assured Derek. He saw the doubt in the beautiful eyes. 

“I killed them, I...I killed my family,” Derek sobbed as he slid sideways into Malcolm’s waiting arms. Years' worth of horror and rage at his childish actions, rage at the only woman he’d ever trusted, sorrow for the beautiful humans who had died that night in the house. Malcolm held on tight, burying his face in Derek’s dark hair, kissing his head as he rocked him back and forth. He let his own tears of pain and sorrow flow, over everything that had happened in the past two months. 

Silently, Malcolm was marveling at how such a kind and generous man had been born from such a tragic beginning, but then Malcolm realized they weren't that different. Both had suffered at the hands of someone they had loved and trusted. Malcolm wasn't sure how long they remained in that position, at some point, Derek's sobs quieted, he wasn't shaking as hard, an occasional sniffle could be heard in the quiet of the apartment. 

"There was a house fire two days ago, right after we got back from vacation, we lost most of the family, all but one little girl," Derek explained as he sat up sometime later, wiping at his face. "Little blonde girl, it just sort of..." he stopped and shrugged, more tears trailing down his cheeks. 

"Triggered you," Malcolm whispered, and Derek nodded in reply. Malcolm studied Derek for a few minutes, as the man just sat on the couch, miserably pealing his label from the bottle. "Thank you for telling me," he finally said, "I know how scared you were, and I'm familiar with that fear hanging over your head. But that wasn't your fault, just like my dad's actions weren't mine. It doesn't change a thing about how I feel, I still love you." 

Derek looked over, eyes red and a little puffy from crying, "Thank you," Derek replied. 

Malcolm nodded, not sure what else to say, "Are you hungry?" he asked. 

Derek huffed, "No, I think I'm just going to turn in, I love you too," he answered before he stood, pecked Malcolm on the lips, and headed over to the bed. Malcolm watched him for a few minutes as he got ready and eventually climbed into the bed. He watched as the two dogs lay on each side, encasing him in a puddle of silent support. Malcolm waited until he heard the even breathing, before he grabbed his laptop and pulled up articles, something churning in his stomach, urging him to look up the family, to look up the mysterious Kate. 

It didn't take long to find the articles, the first one printed the day after the fire. Malcolm felt sadness as he looked at the younger face of his partner, Derek staring miserably over a police officer's shoulder at the house. One week later an article stating the police had found their suspect, and his stomach dropped: Argent. There it was, all the confirmation he'd needed. This woman was somehow related to Chris. Further digging revealed they were siblings, Chris appeared older, there was a picture of him at the courthouse, he wasn't making eye contact with the reporters, in the photo. 

Article after article, Malcolm found more details, she'd gone to prison, she was due to spend life without parole, so she wasn't behind the killings. Malcolm paused, he hadn't even realized he still suspected the murders were somehow related to Derek's past, but the more he thought about it now, the more nervous he felt. The trouble was, Malcolm was sure that Chris didn't fit the profile. He wasn't the right fit for any part of it. He was just about to close his laptop and head to bed himself when he saw one last headline: 'Arsonist found dead after prison riot.' Clicking on the link, Malcolm felt something akin to relief as the article confirmed that Kate Argent had in fact been killed, but the picture at her funeral left him feeling sick, because there, behind the casket, sat Chris argent and a little blonde girl, no more than six or seven. "Shit," he whispered, as he shut the computer. Glancing back over his shoulder his eyes fell on Derek again. Now, what the hell was he supposed to do? 

o0o

By morning Malcolm had decided two things, first, Derek had a right to know if he was a father, and two at some point he had the right to know Kate was dead. However, both of those things felt inappropriate to mention now, given that he'd done a lot of digging and he wasn't sure how Derek would feel about that. So the next morning he made coffee and left a scone and a note telling Derek he was headed to work, kissed the man's sleeping head, and headed out, all the while wondering how he was ever going to tell Derek, or even work up the nerve to ask Chris. 

Malcolm was surprised when he arrived in the office to see the little fair-haired, green-eyed girl sitting in the conference room, coloring at the table, the crime scene photos well away from her. She wasn't much older than she had been in the picture, a couple of months had passed. “Sorry, she doesn’t start school until tomorrow, so I had her cousin bring her here,” Chris explained, tearing Malcolm from his thoughts. 

Malcolm studied the girl for a moment, his thoughts from a few days earlier spinning in his mind, “Chris, can I talk to you for a moment?” Malcolm asked the man. It would be best to rip this bandaid off quickly, he figured. At least something good could possibly come out of this. Then again, he briefly worried that Derek might not appreciate his meddling. 

Chris’ brows furrowed but he nodded, standing, he pressed a kiss to Zoe’s head and moved to follow Malcolm out of the room. Malcolm stepped into Gil’s office before he shut the door. “I have to ask you a personal question and I hope you won’t punch me.” He tried not to fidget too much as he mentally prepped himself for this awkward conversation. 

One of Chris’s eyebrows quirked up, “Okay…” he said cautiously, squinting only slightly as his steely blue eyes seemed to assess him for a long minute. 

Malcolm took a deep breath, before pulling to a stop a foot or two from the FBI agent, “Do you have a sister named Kate who was possibly arrested for arson and murder?” Malcolm winced. 

“You looked my family up,” Chris said with a sigh, “Look I’m not proud of what my sister did--” Before he could finish, a phone was pushed into his line of sight, that had been staring at the ground. On the phone, a familiar face with green eyes and dark hair stared back at him. 

Chris’s eyes grew wide for a moment before he looked up at Malcolm then back down to the man on the phone. Sure, there were definitely differences, the man he was looking at on the phone was older, taller, he was far more built and muscular than Chris remembered him. When he’d last seen the younger man, he’d been a nineteen-year-old boy who barely raised his eyes. His entire body screaming shame and agony over what had happened. His ears had been bigger, and his face more rounded, but then it was normal for young men to grow and fill out well into their twenties. “You know Derek Hale?” He asked as he sank into one of Gil's office chairs. 

Malcolm nodded, his blue eyes studied the familiar tremor in Chris’s hand, the one currently holding his phone. “He’s my boyfriend, although I’ve always found that term to be rather childish. I have to ask, is Zoe Kate’s daughter?” 

Chris was quiet for a few minutes, as he just stared down at the picture of the man he'd once known as a boy. He'd been physically sick at the idea of what his sister had done all in the name of family. Their father had been disturbingly pleased by her horrific acts. Chris remembered arriving at the prison hospital and looking down at his sister's newborn. He'd felt guilt twist in his gut as he looked into a hauntingly familiar pair of pale green eyes. “I’ve always thought it was him, call it a hunch. But…” Chris shook his head, “He was so young, and understandably so scarred from what my sister did. I couldn’t ask her who the father is, but Zoe looks so much like both of them.” In truth, the idea of facing Derek after what his sister had done to his family had felt impossible and downright cruel. 

“The eyes are definitely a major give away,” Malcolm replied softly. “He has the right to know, angry or not for what happened, the man deserves to decide if he wants to know his daughter.” 

Chris's head snapped up, “And if he decides not to, then what, another person gone from her life?” Chris demanded in a cold whisper as he shook his head firmly “She may not be my daughter, but I’ve raised that child since birth. She's lost her mother, her grandfather, and her aunt...I won't let her lose someone else." 

Malcolm held out his hand as if to placate the older man, Malcolm moved over and sat down on the couch next to the chair, “I know Derek, very well. He likes kids, Chris, and he’s not in the habit of holding grudges against innocent people. Just...give him the benefit of the doubt.” He didn't believe for a second that Derek would turn away the little girl. He may be shocked, and even upset, but he wasn't the kind of man to ever turn a child away. 

“What would I even say?” Chris asked, he hated how unsure he felt. Chris considered himself to be a confident man, but when it came to the knowledge that Derek had been raped by his younger sister, had his entire family wiped out by his family’s obsession with guns and always being on top, it all felt too big to Chris, he couldn't imagine how Derek must've felt. No child deserved to be saddled with their own child from such a traumatic experience. 

Malcolm sighed, “They’ve already met, briefly, before you arrived in the office, the morning you joined us actually, she was out running with your daughter, I assume. They were talking when I came by with his coffee.” He smiled briefly, "From what I saw they seemed to like one another." 

Chris was silent for a moment, his long face and blue eyes filled with turmoil as he sat there in silence, his jaw was tight. Malcolm could practically see the wheels turning in the man’s brain. Malcolm understood, this guy was about to drop a bomb on a man’s life, not just that, he could lose the girl entirely. When he finally looked up, Malcolm was a little surprised to see Chris’ eyes were a bit damp, “Assuming you know the whole story...what would you do if you were in his shoes?” 

Malcolm gave the man a sad smile, “I’d be terrified, but I’d really want to know my little girl. No matter what sort of baggage I had. _She_ isn’t Kate.” 

Chris looked back over towards the conference room, his eyes softened as he the familiar green eyes looked up and she gave him her adorable dimpled smile, waving at him before returning to her coloring. No, she was nothing like Kate, from a painfully young age Kate had been cruel at times. She’d been mean and occasionally spiteful. Chris had always assumed his niece had gotten her wonderful and kind personality from her father. “I can take her to a park, he can meet her there,” Chris offered, still looking at her, his voice taking on a tone of strength and certainty. He owed it to Zoe. 

Something in Malcolm’s chest unclenched, and he was more than a little thankful to learn that Chris was definitely not their killer. He probably was very capable of killing, but he clearly had a moral compass, Malcolm could tell decisions weighed heavily on the man’s conscience, that he took things personally and wanted to do his best at making good decisions in spite of his past. Whatever was happening, it didn't involve Chris, and likely didn't involve Derek, thankfully, Malcolm thought. Malcolm nodded, “I’ll have him meet me there.” 

“Will he want to take her from me?” It was a quiet question, leaving Malcolm to wonder if Chris had even intended to ask the question out loud. 

Malcolm hadn’t considered that Derek might want custody, “I think we should take it one step at a time. Especially if you’re considering transferring here from California, which I get the sense you are.” 

Chris nodded, “I put in for a transfer two days ago.” 

Malcolm gave Chris a tight smile, “I’ll go call Derek, have him meet us at the park between here and the fire station, we can go from there," he encouraged gently. 

Chris gave him a tight smile, “Tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, I completely understand either way," he encouraged, before standing and heading out of Gil's office and back to the girl in the conference room. Malcolm's eyes tracked the older agent, and he briefly wondered how such a good guy could have been born to such a hateful family. Pulling his cell phone out, he quickly hit the four on his speed dial and waited for Derek to answer. 

TBC


	7. The Truth Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek learns the truth, and both Malcolm and Derek talk about their fears and concerns about becoming fathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! May 2021 be slightly less of a dumpster fire. So I've written in full up to chapter 7, I'm working on writing chapter 8 now and I have the whole thing plotted out. I'll try to keep updating fairly regularly. Hopefully, with PS coming back I'll find some more inspiration. I will admit while my plan was always to follow some of the show's decisions, I'm 100% not on board with turning Malcolm into any kind of killer. So if they do take that direction don't be surprised if I don't.

**Chapter Seven - The Truth Comes Out**

Malcolm made his way up the park entrance where Derek now sat playing fetch with Bones, who was jogging, mouth open in what looked like a wide smile as he panted, he scooped the neon orange ball up in his mouth and trotted back to his human. Malcolm sat down beside Derek, Athena instantly going to wrestle with Bones. “Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Derek asked, giving Malcolm a kiss. Despite their serious conversation last night, he looked relatively relaxed, and Malcolm had been asleep for most of the night, so knew that Derek had slept through most of the night. It made Malcolm feel like perhaps asking wasn’t detrimental. Maybe sharing his burden had helped. 

“Well...I have a surprise for you. But first I want you to know that you’re not obligated to do anything, no one is expecting you to do anything, and please don’t be mad at me.” Malcolm explained as he could feel Derek stiffening at his side ever so slightly. 

Derek’s brows furrowed, “What’re you pregnant?” he joked which made Malcolm give him a sardonic smile.

That’s when Chris stepped into the park with Zoe holding his hand, Derek sucked in a sharp breath, instantly making the connection. “Shit,” he whispered, before he looked back at Malcolm, “I saw her eyes, and something inside me just...knew,” Derek whispered. 

For some reason, Malcolm felt like he had to suddenly explain his reasoning, “Green eyes are the rarest in the world, it isn’t exactly a jump to realize that having pale green eyes like that would’ve had to come to someone with a similar shade and would’ve had to be dominant over lighter eyes to be the top gene.”

“Please shut up,” Derek choked, then swallowed, mentally he wanted to joke about Malcolm talking dirty to him, but honestly his brain was still trying to process this. She looked just like Kate, but Derek saw bits of himself, the slightly pointed nose at the end, her cheekbones, and then obviously there were her eyes. 

Chris slowly made his way towards them, still gripping Zoe’s smaller hand in his larger one, until he stopped, knelt down, and encouraged her to go play for a few minutes. Derek just sat there frozen, unable to find words. He’d always liked Chris, the guy seemed nice enough and genuine, if not a little cold. Chris stopped short, “Hi Derek,” he offered softly, it was like Chris was trying to project every ounce of sympathy and empathy he could in his eyes as he stood between Derek and the girl now playing on the swingset. Derek understood the man’s stance, understood that while he felt for Derek’s past, wanted desperately to protect the little girl he’d obviously take care of and loved for the last seven years.

“You….you’re sure?” Derek asked. 

Chris looked at Malcolm who looked at Derek, “Not positive, no. DNA testing would be needed to be completely certain but, there are traits she has, the cleft chin, the dimples in each cheek, and the uniquely green eyes,” Malcolm offered. 

“I didn’t know, Derek. I wondered...but you…” Chris shook his head. He looked down then back up, his blue eyes held a wave of emotions. “You were nineteen, if you were the father it meant not only had my sister slept with you to kill your family...but likely had seduced you. I...I couldn’t risk telling you and you hating...her,” he choked out as he looked over his shoulder. “Zoe didn’t need that kind of rejection. And honestly, I didn’t think you deserved that burden after what you’d gone through.” 

Derek sniffled, but nodded, “She was better with you, you’re right about that.” he paused, he felt his heart stutter again, “I have a daughter,” he whispered. 

Chris took a seat beside Derek, hands stuffed in his pockets, “She’s seven, she loves coloring, unicorns, and the color purple. Her birthday is on January 27th.” Chris smiled, “And her best friend is my teenage daughter Allison. She’s kind and funny, she’s smart as a whip, and loves to read.” 

Derek’s eyes just remained focused on the little girl who was currently beaming as she slid down the slide, arms in the air as she giggled to herself. When she came to the end she looked over at Derek, clearly recognizing him from a few days earlier she waved at him. 

“What...what do I tell her?” Derek asked softly, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful little girl. A million emotions were whirling around in his chest and stomach. Fear, excitement, elation, gut-wrenching terror at the idea of ever being responsible for another life when he could barely manage his own. But the one he recognized the easiest and was the most familiar with was the one he’d been feeling for the past six months. Love. An unquenchable desire to hold, protect and love this child for all eternity. It was the same feelings he’d had for the last six months whenever Malcolm was near. Insatiable love for another living being was all-encompassing and frequently left Derek in awe of the utter size of the feeling. Before he could reply, he felt a hand on his. 

Malcolm reached over and gripped Derek’s hand, pulling the man from his thoughts, “The truth, or a version of it. You were very young when she was born and you didn’t know. Tell her how you’re feeling. Be honest with her.” He encouraged the man he loved, it never even occurred to Malcolm to worry about his relationship with Derek and his spot in all of this. Honestly, in Malcolm’s eyes, it didn’t matter, it didn’t change how he felt about Derek, and he was certain it wouldn’t change how Derek felt about him in return.

Derek gave him a hesitant nod as he continued to stare at his daughter... _his daughter_. He wasn’t quite sure how to even begin processing that information. “Do you want to meet her?” Chris’s voice startled him from his thoughts. Derek glanced over at Chris, he saw nothing but patience in the man’s face. Derek managed one shaky nod before Chris called for Zoe to come over. The little girl raced over excitedly, her face flushed from playing in the chilly morning.

“I remember you,” she said looking at Derek and Malcolm. 

Chris reached out, pulled her in and onto his lap, “Zoe, sweetheart, you know I love you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her cheek. “Remember how I told you I didn’t know who your father was?” Zoe nodded, looking at Chris, one of her hands gently scratching at his beard. “That...wasn’t entirely true. I had an idea of who your dad was, but I also knew he was very young when you were born.” 

Zoe looked at her, brows coming together before she looked over at Derek, “You?” she asked, pointing to him. Derek gave a hesitant nod, “How old were you?” 

“Nineteen,” he replied quietly. 

Zoe’s eyes shot back to Chris, “That’s only two years old than Allison.” 

Chris nodded, “And he’d just gone through a horrible tragedy, between that and not being sure, I chose to keep my assumptions to myself.” 

“But now?” Zoe asked, surprising Malcolm at how easily she understood the adult conversation. Briefly making the younger detective wonder if he would’ve understood like that. He certainly hadn’t understood his dad’s decision to kill people. 

Chris sighed, squeezing her a little tighter, “Now, he’s a grown-up, and...since we’re staying in New York, it seems right that you have the choice to get to know your father,” Chris explained, his voice shaking slightly at the end of the sentence. There was no question that Chris was terrified of losing Zoe, he clearly doted on her. 

Zoe looked back at Derek before she wiggled down from Chris's lap and came to stand between Derek’s legs. She reached her tiny hands up, tracing his beard with her fingers, “I have your eyes,” she said softly. 

Derek couldn’t help the soft chuckle, “You do, but they’re much prettier on you,” he smiled, as he let his hands rest on her waist. 

“Uncle Chris always said if you’d known you’d have loved me. Is that true?” 

Derek bit his bottom lip, “Zoe, I’ve known you for a couple of days and I already can’t get you out of my mind.” he whispered, unable to keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “I have no doubt that you’ve been better off with Chris these last few years. I’ve struggled a lot, and that wouldn’t have been fair to a little kid as sweet as you. But...if you’d like, I’d definitely like to be a part of your life now,” he offered, he couldn’t explain the hope he felt in his heart knowing this little girl could be his. 

Zoe studied him for a minute, before she looked over at Malcolm, “Are you going to be my other daddy?” She asked. 

Malcolm chuckled, as did Chris and Derek, both men looking over at the profiler, “I always used to say I wasn’t father material, but if you can deal with my hang-ups, I think I could get used to being a dad,” he replied, unable to contain his own smile, Derek and her smiles were utterly infectious. 

“Can I call you daddy?” She turned back and asked Derek. 

Derek let out half a laugh, half sob, as his shoulders slumped and he let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “God yes,” he murmured and a moment later she was jumping into his arms, he pulled her into a big hug. She instantly pressed her cheek to his beard and hugged her arms around his neck. If the little girl noticed her father had started crying softly into her shoulder, she said nothing. She noticed Malcolm’s hand sliding behind Derek’s back and giving it a gentle rub. So her smaller one joined his, causing Malcolm once again to grin. When their hands met on Derek’s upper shoulders, he gently caught one of her hands, giving it a small squeeze. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered into Derek’s ear. 

Derek held his daughter and realized that whatever had happened in the past, he could survive as long as she was the outcome. It would take a while to get used to it, but he could deal with this. He set her back down on her feet a few minutes later and gave her a wet smile. She stepped back a little and grinned before glancing back over her shoulder. 

“Can I go play again?” She asked. 

“Absolutely,” laughed Derek as he watched her runoff. He looked over at Chris once she was gone, “Thank you, for being there.” 

Chris smiled and looked back at her, “She’s a great kid and I always thought you were a decent guy.” 

Derek nodded, not sure how to reply to that, “I work a twenty-four-hour shift every third day, so I’m off today until 6 am tomorrow morning, then work till the following morning at 6 am. After that 48 hours off. Can we work something out based on that? She doesn’t have to spend the night yet...I’m actually in the process of moving in with Malcolm. Do you have a guest room?”

Malcolm chuckled at Derek’s stream of consciousness, “I do actually, it’s on the second floor, I just don’t use it.” 

Derek paused, “You have a second floor? I just assumed the stairs were decoration or something.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “It’s a loft Derek, of course, I have a second floor. We can always find a bigger place if needed, but that will mean telling my mother she’s going to be a grandma.” 

“Oh god,” Derek mumbled as Malcolm just grinned as he leaned his head against Derek’s shoulder. 

“You two are very good for each other. I hope you both realize that, how great you are together,” Chris said with a soft smile as he watched the pair. Before he looked back over at his niece, then nodded in response to Derek’s earlier question, “The two days you’re off if you’d like to have her after school and get her ready for school in the mornings when we get to that, I think can manage that, then once you have space to have a bedroom we can do it so she spends those forty-eight hours with you and the twenty-four with me...if that’s what you’d like,” the fear of loving his niece was still sharp. 

“Definitely, as long as you’re okay with it,” Derek replied as he stared over at his little girl again. “She’s as much a part of your family as she is mine. I think we can co-parent just fine,” he said looking back over at Chris, he could see the love in the man’s face as he watched the beautiful little girl. He knew that as much as Zoe may be biologically his, Chris had five years' worth of experience with her, she deserved to be a part of both lives. 

o0o

Derek was quietly staring at the pool table later that evening, well more like staring through it, which in itself was enough of a concern. JT watched the man with a mixture of worry and curiosity, they’d been “playing” for the past hour, and by playing JT really meant he’d occasionally been taking shots in between telling Derek it was his turn, only to have the other man make half attempts at best. Tally and Malcolm had decided to sit this pool session out, which had come about when Malcolm had told JT his friend could probably use some guy time after he and Chris had returned from a walk with Chris’ kid. JT was nervous for some reason, but he pushed it away, he didn’t think Malcolm would hurt Derek like that. 

_“You’re a guy,” JT pointed out, his brown pinched in confusion._

_Malcolm nodded, “Well, yeah but I mean...you know what I mean, not boyfriends/girlfriends spouse time.”_

_“Comparing yourself to a soupse now, Bright?” Dani grinned as she picked on her friend._

_JT had to bite the inside of his cheek as Malcolm quickly backpedal to save himself. “I get it, dude. Chill.”_

Now, standing here with Derek, JT could see exactly what Malcolm meant. The man was stuck in his head, and whatever was going on up there was taking his entire concentration. “Okay, we’re done, come on,” JT set his pool stick down and took the one from Derek’s hand, placing them both on the table. 

“Hey, we were playing,” Derek half disputed as JT dragged him towards a booth. 

JT snorted, “Yeah right, the balls were doing more work than you, bro. What’s up with you?” 

Derek shrugged, “Nothing.” 

“Liar, try again. Bright said you could use a guy night.” 

“Malcolm is a guy,” Derek replied, his brows pulled towards his forehead in confusion.

“I said the same thing, but I think he meant a friend you’ve known for a while. So, let’s start over. What’s going on, because you’ve been spacey as hell tonight, and if I’m being totally honest, it sounds like you’ve been off since you got back from vacation. Hell, I think he’s coping with everything better than you are, which frankly is impressive since he barely seems to be dealing with it at all--” 

“I’m a father,” Derek whispered, cutting JT off. 

JT’s brain came to a grinding halt, like cogs in a watch, screeching and grinding as they stopped. He just sat there, staring at his best friend, mentally, he knew he needed to say something, anything would be better than dumbly sitting there the way he was, but somehow, JT’s brain refused to reboot. 

“And now you know why I’m sitting here staring all night,” reasoned Derek as he saw the vacant expression of shock on his best friend’s face.

JT opened his mouth to say something but then stopped, quickly shutting it again with a slight smack of his lips. 

“My point exactly,” Derek returned waving at his best friend. 

“I’m still processing,” JT stuttered, though that wasn’t entirely the case he was really just trying to wrap his brain around the very idea of it. “Congratulations?” JT offered the first thing that came to mind and regretted it immediately as the humor fell flat. “Okay, let me try that again... how did you find out?”

“Malcolm apparently figured it out,” Derek replied, picking at a speck of paint on the table.

“Of course he did,” JT mumbled into his beer bottle. 

“You’ve been working with her uncle, Chris Argent, remember the woman I told you about who burnt...who…” he waved his hand as if that explained everything. “Anyway she seduced me, and apparently was pregnant with my child when she was sentenced to life in prison.” 

JT shook his head in disbelief, taking another swig of his beer, “Good lord you two have better life stories than soap operas.” 

“That implies you watch them,” Derek stated, eyeing his friend. 

“Plead the fifth man. How old is the kid?” 

“She turned seven last month, her name is Zoe,” the way Derek said it, JT knew instantly that while this was certainly a surprise, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. 

With a small smirk on his face, JT put his beer bottle out, “Congratulations, Der. You’ll be incredible. And I’ll be an amazing Uncle if I do say so myself.” 

Derek clinked his bottle against JT’s then smiled as he took a sip, “Ass.” 

“That’s Uncle Ass to you. How’s Bright taking it?” 

Derek chuckled softly, rolling the bottle between his hands, “He hasn’t run for the hills, so I guess okay.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” 

“She looks like her mom for starters. Maybe not completely, she’s got my eyes and nose, but she has Kate’s ears and other facial features, plus her blonde hair. I’ve met her twice now and had to remind myself to breathe, and only one of those times I found out. Malcolm and I can barely sleep through the night without someone waking up screaming, I’m as much of a mess as he is sometimes...are we really father material?” 

JT was quiet, considering his friend’s questions. When he’d met Derek, the man had still been a boy, fresh from his tragedy, nineteen going on twenty. He was foul-mouthed, angry at the world, and ready to take on anyone who told him so. The man he saw before him today was a completely different man. He was even-keeled, calmer, and passionate about helping people. He clearly loved Malcolm and saw himself spending forever with the kid. “I think something you might be forgetting, is that any father is better than no father at all.” 

“Even a damaged one?” Derek asked, his own mind wandering to Martin Whitly, in truth even Malcolm had to admit that he’d loved his father, still did if he was completely honest. 

JT looked at Derek, in the eyes, “Trust me, man, I’d given my right leg to even have my father in my life, much less spend time with him if he was like you or Bright for that matter. You’re both really good guys, don’t tell Bright I said that. I think you need to give yourself the benefit of the doubt. Kids are resilient, just look at the two of you. Two shitty pasts, two horrible tragedies, and now here you are happily surviving together.” 

“I don’t want to just survive, I want to live,” Derek replied, he felt exhausted, he wanted a future, but he was still so terrified of his past. 

“Then do it,” JT insisted, “Stop letting the past dictate your future. So she looks like Kate, something about Kate must’ve been attractive at first. Focus on that, don’t look at her as a little Kate, look at her as an extension of your ability to love someone. Stop looking back at your past and using it as an excuse for why you’re afraid to get better. Push forward, both of you, together, with this little girl. Be a family, for her and for each other.” JT paused and looked from his beer bottle back to Derek. “And on bad days, when you aren’t sure you can do that, know that you’re not alone, neither one of you. We’re here to help.” It was as honest as JT ever got, if he was real, he could see this kid being something wonderful for Derek, as long as the younger man let himself have it.

Derek was quiet for a moment, making JT a little nervous, but after a moment the younger man looked up, “What if he doesn’t want to parent with me?” 

“Did he say that?” JT asked in surprise, that didn’t sound like Bright at all. 

Derek shook his head, “No, he admitted he’d like to.” 

“Then stop assuming the worst. Embrace now, stop worrying about what could be. Figure it out as ya go. You’re never going to work together if you don’t talk to one another, both of you.” 

Derek just nodded, “You’d make a real good therapist if this detective thing doesn’t work out.” 

“Go to hell,” mumbled JT with a smile on his face.

o0o  
  


Malcolm sat once more in Gabrielle’s office, sucking on a rootbeer lollipop, “Derek’s a father,” he blurted out after having sat there in silence. 

Gabrielle smiled and nodded, “Really, and how are you feeling about that?” 

Malcolm shrugged, “I never saw myself as father material...but she’s pretty cute, wanna see her?” he asked, he’d snapped some pictures the day before with his phone when they’d been at the park. He quickly thumbed to a few and handed the phone over. 

Gabrielle accepted the phone and couldn’t help the wide smile, “She’s beautiful, I take it he didn’t know until recently?” 

“Yesterday actually.” 

“How is he doing with this revelation?” 

Malcolm smirked, “Well he hasn’t stopped talking about her for the last twelve hours, so I think he might be smitten. It’s pretty cute.” 

“And where do you fit into this picture? Or rather, do you want to fit in this picture?” 

Malcolm was quiet for a few minutes, “Six months ago, I’d have probably said I wasn’t meant to be a father, I’ve got enough baggage to qualify for an upgrade to first class, and I’m addicted to anti-psychotic meds.” 

“But?” Gabrielle prompted.

Malcolm looked at her, “My dad was a really good father, all things considered before I learned the truth. Maybe it was a lie, maybe it wasn't, but If he can do it, why can’t I?” 

Gabrielle chuckled softly, “I think you can, for what it’s worth. Malcolm, no one has to spend their life entirely isolated and alone because of mental illness. Plenty of PTSD soldiers and other sufferers have children and spouses. Plenty of people with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and other issues are capable of leading relatively functional lives as long as they continue their medication. And while Martin may not be the best example of the father of the year, there is no question, despite his narcissism, his family was always in his mind.” 

“I’ve always liked kids...I guess I’m starting to see that maybe I can be normal?” 

Gabrielle smiled again, passing the cellphone back, “I think Derek is providing you something you’ve never really been given before. Stability. The stability of a firm presence to constantly be there in times of need and times of happiness. Gil and Jackie were wonderful for you, but you only saw them sometimes. Being separated from the house you grew up in, and out from under your mother’s control, being able to grow and spread your own wings, that’s what’s going to show you the chance you have for normalcy.”

“What if I screw up?” Malcolm asked. 

“You will,” Gabrielle assured with a slight grin, “Every parent does, but it’s about loving them enough to never stop trying. And the fact that you’re asking that question, already shows you’re ready for this.” 

Before Malcolm could formulate a reply he cell phone rang, he pulled his cell out of his pocket quickly, looking down at it, “I’ve gotta go,” he told her as he answered Gil’s call. “Another body?” 

Gabrielle just smirked to herself as her favorite client left the office. God help the world, Malcolm Bright was going to be a father. 

o0o

Malcolm arrived at the high rise apartment before he spotted Dani waiting outside for him, “Hey,” she greeted, smirking as he handed her a sucker, his own already hanging out of his mouth “How was therapy?” she asked before popping it in her mouth as they made their way inside. 

“Surprisingly good,” Malcolm replied with a warm and confident smile. 

“Yeah? Did you talk about your newest relationship?” She asked, pursing her lips before the grin split her face, as Malcolm glanced over at her, his eyes narrowing. 

Finally, he nodded, “JT told you,” he replied. 

“So it’s true?” Dani questioned, “How are you handling the idea of being a dad?” she asked him, bumping gently into his shoulder. The elevator gave the typical ‘ding’ and the doors slid open, allowing the pair to step inside as Dani reached forward and hit the number six. 

He laughed out loud at that, catching his sucker before losing it to the floor, “First off, she isn’t my daughter, she’s Derek’s daughter. I’m just...a weird bonus I think.” 

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Bright. You’re her other weird new dad,” she grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Malcolm rolled his eyes at her, “You’re enjoying this far too much,” he replied with a shake of her head. 

Scrunching her nose in that way he absolutely adored, she grinned, “Maybe a little, but come on. She seems like a really sweet kid from the brief meeting she and I had yesterday. And I’ve seen you with kids, you’re pretty good with them.” 

“Derek has custody of her after work tomorrow, we’re going to spend the day together if we can. I guess we’ll see how we do.” 

“I think you’ll be great, Bright. Seriously,” she said, reaching over and giving his forearm a gentle squeeze. 

He didn’t know how to reply, instead he just gently gripped her hand in return with his other hand. Before he took a deep breath, “So, what’s the story?” Malcolm asked, then stepped into the elevator together, as the elevator door slid open. 

“Maid came in to do the morning cleaning and found our vic dead. Initially, we assumed a different killer than our poisoner, but then Edrisa said she was fairly certain the guy’s throat was cut post mortem. Given that, and what was found on the guy’s chest, well...we’re pretty sure they’re connected,” she explained, the hallway was swarming with uniforms, as well as the crime scene professionals as they stepped inside the small condo. Malcolm’s brows rose slightly at the sight of the body, lying in the middle of the floor, his throat was indeed sliced open and had bled. 

“The cut is perfectly smooth,” he whispered as he stepped closer and knelt down, minding where he stepped. If Dani and JT noted the awe and sound of being impressed in Malcolm’s voice, they thankfully decided not to mention it. 

Edrisa came over, standing next to JT and Gil who were already taking notes by the body, “I’ll run a tox screen to be sure, but typically it isn’t easy to cut someone’s throat, especially when they’re alive. It takes a great deal of force and power. That cut tells me this person didn’t even put up a fight.” 

Malcolm nodded, “Indicating he was dead or dying by the time the cut was made. But why bother?” 

Gil took something from one of the investigators and handed the plastic bag over to Malcolm. Inside lay a single sprig of a violet purple flower, “Monkshood,” he whispered looking at it. 

“The maid said it was lying on our vic’s chest when she walked in. This scene is completely different,” Gil explained, frustration lining his voice, Malcolm also detected a hint of impatience in the older man’s tone. Gil was worried, not that Malcolm blamed the man. They had absolutely no list to even begin narrowing down a suspect list, and the odds seemed stacked against them. 

“They’ve found their target,” Chris’ voice startled them all as he stepped into the room, a grim look on his handsome features. Malcolm noticed the tension in the man’s shoulders, he hadn’t shaved like he had the day before and Malcolm didn’t miss the bags under his eyes. “At least, that’s what I assume, it’s unlikely a killer like this would change so many aspects of the crime unless they were growing cocky,” Chris finished as he stepped over to look at the monkshood that Malcolm held. 

Malcolm nodded in grim agreement, “Given how different the scene is, we shouldn’t rule out two killers, but for now we have to assume you’re correct, whoever killed this person has found their target. Edrisa, see if they’ll rush the tox screen. An escalation means either their target is next or will be soon. Did we find anything in common with the previous victims?” 

Dani shook her head, “The first two in California all had completely different lives, went to different schools, different gyms, lived in different areas, and came from different socioeconomic backgrounds,” she explained.

“None of their family could think of a reason someone would want to kill them,” Chris finished. “No known enemies, I mean yes they all had people who disliked them, but no one to gain anything from killing the people.” 

“So we have nothing, wonderful,” Gil muttered, “All right, let's get back to the office, while I try and find a way to keep this out of the press as long as possible.”

Malcolm waited until the other three started to walk away before he reached out and caught Chris’ arm. The man turned, Malcolm’s brows furrowed, “You okay?” he asked. 

Chris took in a sharp breath, before letting it out and stuffing his hands in his pockets, “No, no I’m not. My daughter apparently snuck out last night, she got home around six this morning. I spent the better part of the last three hours arguing with her,” he replied. 

“Is she okay?” Malcolm questioned. 

“Oh, she’s fine, so is her boyfriend,” he growled, “Enjoy the seven-year-old while you can, Bright, once they get to their teen years, you’re gonna wish for little temper tantrums again,” he groused before turning and walking away. 

Malcolm stood there for a moment, his eyes widening, He hadn’t even considered temper tantrums yet, Glancing around to see if anyone had heard the conversation, once he was sure no one seemed to notice him, he hurried out of the room. 

It was several hours later, after their shift, when Malcolm arrived at his mother’s house, letting himself in, he closed the door quietly behind him, before he walked into the house, glancing around to see if his mother was anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Not spotting her, he jogged up the stairs and into her bedroom where he found her and Ainsley fawning over a beautiful dark green dress. Malcolm briefly considered running away, it was one thing to talk to his mother about a topic like this, but with Ainsley, he’d never live this moment down. 

“Malcolm,” His mother greeted in delight as she spotted him in her mirror before turning, “How are you feeling?” She asked as he nervously stepped into the room. 

“I’m fine. Nice dress, going out?” He asked hoping he could change the topic before they asked why he was here. Suddenly this conversation seemed much less important. 

Jessica grinned, as she turned and ran her hand down the silk fabric, “As a matter of fact I am.” The way her face lit up at the thought of the date, it must be someone she was excited to go out with. That brought all sorts of questions to Malcolm’s mind, but he kept those questions to himself. 

“Oh, then you’re busy, I’ll leave you--” Before he could reply, she’d grabbed his arm and whirled him around. 

“Nice try, Malcolm. My date isn’t for a couple more hours. Now, what brings my favorite son to visit me so soon after his vacation when normally he’d be avoiding me?” she asked with her familiar knowing smile. 

Malcolm winced slightly, before he looked from Ainsley, then back to Jessica, “I...need your….” he sighed, “Advice.” 

Jessica’s eyes widened as Ainsley snorted, which quickly got her two identical glares from her mother and brother. “What? He’s dating a guy, you’re not exactly the right person to ask for advice about that,” she chuckled. 

Malcolm heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes, all the while wondering what he’d done to deserve enduring both the Whitley women instead of just one at a time. “It’s not about Derek,” he replied, then glanced up as an afterthought, “Well...not entirely.” 

Jessica rolled her eyes at her son’s inability to be direct at times, before she gently wrapped an arm through one of his and together they headed back down the stairs, “Ilsa, could you make some tea for three please,” she called to one of her many housekeepers. Before she stepped into the main room, and took a seat on the couch, “Now, have a seat, what’s wrong?” 

Ainsley smirked playfully, before crossing her legs, “Oh yes, do tell.” The second glare her brother shot her was completely worth the ribbing. 

“Okay, so...try not to freak out.” 

“Oh boy,” Jessica muttered, “Is this more of a hard liquor type of conversation?” She asked as she started to get up to pour something stronger. 

“Knowing Malcolm,” Ainsley joked. 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at her, “I will find a way to write you out of her will,” he mumbled. 

“Stop it,” Jessica rolled her eyes at the pair, “Malcolm, I’m not making any such promise, what’s wrong?” 

“Dereksafatherandapparentlytheremightbetempertantrums,” Malcolm mumbled as quickly as he possibly could. The shocked gasp he heard from Ainsley told him that at least one of the Whitley women caught most of what he’d said. 

“Wait...did you just...say I became a grandmother?” Jessica asked, her face was caught between shock and delight. 

Malcolm’s brows furrowed while Ainsley covered her mouth to hide her laugh, “Uh, no...I said Derek was a father--” 

“Are you not planning to marry that hunk of a firefighter?” Jessica clarified. 

Malcolm’s brain went blank for a moment, “Uh...yes, that is eventually the plan I suppose,” he answered, his head cocking slightly to the side. 

She beamed at that response, “Oh this is wonderful! I’ve been wondering when you’d get around to gracing me with my grandchild, honestly, I thought it’d be Ainsley first--” 

“Hey!” Ainsley protested. 

“Mother!” Malcolm snapped, rubbing his temples. 

Jessica tsked, “Malcolm, darling, temper tantrums are part of the childhood process. All children have them,” she reasoned. “Why are you worried?” 

Malcolm looked at her, “Because what if Derek isn’t around, what if...what if I’m not father material, what if I have to punish her?” 

“Don’t chloroform her,” supplied Ainsley. When Jessica gave her a stern glare, Ainsley raised her hands in defense, “Sorry, clearly too soon, I’ll leave you two to this one alone. Malcolm, I expect to be introduced as an Aunt soon,” she replied before grabbing her purse and pecking her mother on the cheek, before leaving the two alone. 

Jessica stood, coming over to sit down beside her son, flattening her dress under her legs so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Malcolm, sweetheart, every parent worries about how they’ll do as a parent. If your father is your primary cause for concern in this conversation, I can assure you, nothing he did to you will ever be repeated to any of your children.” 

Malcolm looked at her, “How can you know?” Fear filling his light blue eyes. 

Jessica reached out, cupping his cheek in her hand, gently stroking the curve of his cheekbone with her thumb, “Malcolm, you are a wonderful, kind, and genuine young man. While you may be a little odd at times, and you certainly have your fair share of childhood trauma, you are no more or less capable of parenting than your father was, or I was.” 

“He killed people,” Malcolm told her as if it was obvious. 

She chuckled, letting her hand drop to the one on his leg, “He did, but prior to learning the man your father really was, you did love him as your father, didn’t you?” 

Malcolm nodded, “Of course.” 

She smiled at that, “Darling, your father may be a monster of a human being, and god help me I’ll never understand how I loved someone capable of the things he did. But the moments I really _did_ love him, were the moments I saw him being a father to you and Ainsley.” 

“Were you ever scared?” 

She laughed, “Dear heavens, I think I cried myself to sleep for the first six months after you were born.” 

Malcolm’s eyes widened in surprise, before furrowing. She chuckled at the response before gently cupping his chin again. “Malcolm I wanted so badly to be a mother, not just because it was a part of what was expected of me, but I wanted to share my love with someone else. But when you were born, this beautiful little baby boy who was clearly so fragile and so very tiny, I was terrified. I was terrified I’d break you, drop you, the first time I ever gave you a bath, I was out of my mind thinking I’d manage to drown you. The housekeeper offered and I couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone else doing it but me.” 

“How did you get past the fear?” 

She shrugged, “I suppose some of it happened naturally, your father helped, he reminded me every day that children learn and they play and develop and things would happen, you’d trip, or you’d bump into things it was all a part of learning and growing. He was right, you did all of those things, and my only job was to scoop you up and cuddle you close and remind you that I’d take care of all your hurts and pains.” She studied her son, she never stopped being amazed at how that adorable little infant had grown up into this wonderful young man. 

“And when you had to punish me or Ainsley, were you ever scared?” 

“Of course, the first time I ever sent you to your room, you were crying and I was sure you’d never speak to me again.” 

Malcolm scoffed, “I don’t remember that.” 

“No, I don’t imagine you would. You were a little over two, maybe two and a half. We’d gone to visit your father at work, ate lunch with him, but we had to leave. You pitched a fit, screamed, and cried the entire trip home. You were furious, couldn’t understand why your father couldn’t play with you all day. I tried to explain it, I tried to reason, I tried nearly everything, and finally, I realized nothing was working. So I told you if you didn’t stop screaming you’d have to go to your room and take a nap, no story, nothing.” She paused and smiled, “I must admit, the hardest part sometimes about being a parent, after having to be a bad guy once in a while, was having to keep a straight face when this adorable little toddler who thinks he’s so tough stomps his way up the stairs determined to make as much noise as possible. It was adorable.” 

Malcolm smiled as his mother ran her hand over his hair, “You were upset, of course, but after a little while, you came back down, and you apologized for being loud.” 

“What did you do?” 

Jessica shrugged, “You were a child, I did what any good mother would, I scooped you up, hugged you close, and reminded you that it’s okay to be upset and that I still loved you, but that you just couldn’t scream at the top of your lungs about it.” 

Malcolm chuckled at that, “How do I make sure that she knows I love her while still being stern?” 

Jessica beamed, “It’s a granddaughter is it,” she clapped, “Delightful, oh, I’m going to have to buy her thousands of dresses.” 

“Mother,” Malcolm warned. 

“What, I’m supposed to spoil my grandchildren. How old is she?” 

“Just turned seven,” Malcolm replied as he slipped his phone out of his pocket and showed her a few pictures from the previous day. 

Jessica gasped and smiled as she looked on at Derek and the little girl, “She’s beautiful. Malcolm, the best piece of advice I can pass on to you is something my mother taught me, she certainly was never perfect. But she told me to do whatever you can to ensure your child knows you may not always love their actions, but you can still love the person,” Jessica paused, “Of course that was before she learned your father was a serial killer, I’d like to think she’d have changed that little mantra.” Malcolm couldn’t help the chuckle as he nodded, Jessica sighed, “Honey, most of all, Derek is her father, let him develop and set the tone. Maybe he hasn’t thought about some of these things. So have the conversation with him, talk over those things now in a safe space before they happen. You can’t possibly plan for everything, but you can try and be prepared, be a united front. She’s young enough that you’ll probably just be another father figure, rather than the idea of a “step-parent”, so let Derek take the lead and make sure that if you really want to do this, really want to marry him and be a parent, that you’re ready to back him up no matter what. Even if you disagree, do it in private, calmly.” 

“Thanks, mom,” he replied. 

She smiled, “Any time, and of course, I expect to meet my new beautiful little granddaughter as soon as possible. What’s her name?” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “Zoe,” he replied. 

Her face faltered slightly at that, “Well, no one’s perfect there I suppose. Now, tell me about your vacation?”

TBC


	8. Two Dads and a Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Malcolm take Zoe for a family day, Jessica and Gil crash the party. We learn about more murders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last happy chapter for a while folks, we're getting to the bulk of the plot, so please enjoy! Also, this was edited with Grammarly, which is apparently VERY fond of the Oxford common, I personally hate it, so if you like it I apologize. you won't find it in my stuff often.

Despite having a busy twenty-four hours at work, by the time Derek woke up at noon on the first of his 48 hours off, he was more than ready to start getting to know his daughter. It had been a while since Derek could last remember feeling this nervous, jittery and excited, all the while dreading that this little girl may not like him. He’d been nervous for his first date with Malcolm, but that had been different, something about Malcolm had felt oddly...safe and refreshing. When he’d told JT that, the man had laughed at the idea that Malcolm Bright was ever safe for anyone.

Making his way to Malcolm’s apartment, Derek thought about the situation at hand. Malcolm knew that while Derek was open to getting to know his daughter, he wasn’t ready to mend bridges with any other family members yet. They’d already decided that it was best to move to a more family-friendly home, so Malcolm was shopping for new real estate. Or rather his mother was. So Malcolm had suggested neutral ground of his current apartment, where Chris would be meeting them with Zoe. Derek had clung to the idea like a drowning man to a piece of flotsam. He was terrified of the prospect of having any of Kate’s family in his life, though admittedly the thought of his daughter seemed to soften her name to him in the past few days. Chris had sent a couple of pictures throughout each of the last few days as if trying to share Derek’s daughter a little at a time.

Derek wasn’t too man to admit that he’d spent the better part of last night staring at the picture of his beautiful little girl sitting at a table staring at her homework in disdain. He’d chuckled every time he’d pulled it out, the slight pout in her brows looked just like his when he was frustrated or grumpy. Malcolm called it Derek’s puppy frown. 

Despite initial fears of having Chris around alongside Zoe, Derek had to admit the older man had been nothing but supportive over the last few days, kind, patient and otherwise silent unless directly texted about something. He sent pictures of Zoe and a little more unless Derek specifically asked. 

It helped to have Malcolm around as well because if Derek had any major concerns, he knew that Malcolm was happy to be the go-between for the time being. As he came to a stop in front of Malcolm’s building, Derek took what he hoped was a calming breath, before he opened the door with his key and headed up the stairs. Any fears were immediately wiped away but a loud giggle from his little girl. 

Coming up just enough so he could see over the wall of the stairs he smiled at the sight before him. Malcolm was standing facing him, but his eyes weren’t on Derek at all. Instead, the man was watching as Zoe sprayed whip cream all over a plate on the counter. The small spots were now turning into a mound of it causing Malcolm to chuckle as he swiped at the side of the cream and dabbed a bit on Zoe’s nose. 

Zoe naturally reached out and did the same, smearing it in Malcolm’s beard, causing him to grimace and laugh. “Oh boy, looks like breakfast hit a snag,” Derek chuckled as he came up to the top of the landing. 

“DADDY!” squealed the little girl, before hopping down all on her own, which nearly gave both Malcolm and her father a small heart attack, before she raced over to him, sticky hands and all. 

Despite the fact that hearing her call him daddy for the first time felt like a punch to the gut he hadn’t been expecting, Derek knelt down and swept her up into his arms. He wasn’t at all surprised when her sticky, cream covered hands managed to wrap around his neck, he’d have to wipe his jacket off later. For the time being, he took a moment to hug her in return, to take in the warmth and love radiating from the little child who barely knew him. Instant love and affection was an incredible thing, but to know that she trusted him so explicitly already, it was humbling. 

Malcolm smiled from where he stood, wiping the cream off his face and starting to clean up what was left of their...Derek paused in horror, “Is that a pop tart?” he asked. 

Malcolm glanced up at Derek, “What? Don’t make it weird,” he replied with a shrug, “She likes them.” 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Derek rounded the island, leaning into Malcolm’s space, “Good morning,” he greeted his boyfriend fondly. 

Malcolm hummed, leaning in to kiss the man, before at the last second dipping out and squirting a small blob of whip cream on Derek’s nose. Instantly Zoe let out a squeal of laughter as Derek playfully growled. He reached out, grabbing Malcolm’s arm and bringing the man in close. “No, don’t you dare,” Malcolm replied as Derek buried his nose against Malcolm's neck, successfully wiping the cold goo across his neck and cheek. 

“Seems fitting,” Derek replied, before he caught Malcolm’s lips this time, giving him a longer kiss than necessary. The small giggle was what stopped him, pausing, Malcolm still in his arms, they looked down to see Zoe smiling at them. 

“What?” he asked. 

Giggling again, “Gross,” was her only reply, though clearly from the delight on her face she wasn’t grossed out at all. 

“Gross? I’ll show you gross,” he came over to Zoe and swept her into his arms, pulling her shirt up from her tummy just enough to blow a raspberry on her stomach. More squealing and laughter echoed through the small apartment as he finally righted her and sat her against his hip. “Are you ready to have an adventure today?” 

“Yeah!” she cheered, Derek decided she didn’t have a clam button. 

“You want to clean her up and I’ll clean myself and the kitchen?” Malcolm asked with a chuckle. 

Derek nodded, heaving into the bathroom. Malcolm made quick work of clearing the counter and wiping the sticky cream off his face. He was laughing at the small tower of whip cream currently going into his trash when he heard a familiar happy sigh. Looking up he saw his mother standing there looking delighted, “That’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you,” she said in a light and fond voice. 

“Mother,” Malcolm greeted, “What are you doing here?” he asked. Then he paused, finally realizing that she was actually wearing...what looked like fairly casual slacks, granted they were still top of the line, but they looked comfortable, and leather boots, and deep purple long sleeve sweater. “What are you wearing? I didn’t even know you owned what could be classified as casual wear,” he commented as he moved towards her. 

“Malcolm, darling. I raised two children, you don’t think everything I owned was worth thousands of dollars, did you? You may have been the cleaner of the two, but you were both quite messy as babies,” she chuckled as she pecked her son on the kiss. “Now, where’s my new granddaughter?” She asked beaming. 

“Uh...what?” Malcolm asked in confusion, his confusion was further compounded when Gil came walking up the stairs. 

“Sorry, was just feeding the meter,” he offered before he looked wide-eyed at Malcolm and Jessica. 

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed as he looked from his mother to Gil, then back to his mother, his brilliant brain was trying to fathom what could be going on here. “What are you two doing here?” 

Jessica scoffed, “Honestly Malcolm, you didn’t think I was going to let you two go house shopping with a child when neither of you has ever had a child, did you? Good lord, this place is a death trap, of course not. Plus, I figured it might be fun to make it a family day.” 

“A family day?” 

Jessica rolled her eyes, “What, we are a family, are we not?” 

Malcolm paused before he closed his eyes and deflated, “Much to my chagrin most days,” he answered. 

“Mr. Gil!” a delighted cry disrupted the trio as Zoe excitedly ran towards the older man, who crouched down, despite the cracking knees, and lifted her up into his arms. 

Jessica turned to him aghast, “You met her already, you didn’t tell me that,” she gently smacked his arm. 

“Why would he tell you that?” Malcolm asked suspiciously. 

“Jessie, she’s been at the precinct twice in the past week, of course, I’ve met her,” Gil replied. 

“Jessie!?” Malcolm felt like he was having a small meltdown and no one but him seemed to notice. 

Zoe, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by Malcolm’s shock as she looked to Jessica and smiled, “You’re pretty,” she told Jessica. 

“Yes, she is,” Gil replied confidently, with a warm smile on his face. 

Jessica melted slightly at that and beamed at the man, “And you must be Zoe, I’m Malcolm’s mommy.” 

“You haven’t been my mommy since I was ten,” Malcolm replied, still trying to process the fact that Gil and his mother were both here...together...and apparently Gil called her Jessie...and beautiful. 

“Oh, I thought I smelled smoke,” Derek stepped into the living kitchen area from the bedroom, smirking when he saw Malcolm’s brain was clearly offline, as it attempted a hard reboot. 

“You knew about this!?” Malcolm demanded. 

Derek snickered, “Uh yeah. Everyone knows about it,” he replied as Jessica greeted him with a motherly kiss on the cheek. “Zoe, this is your grandma, although knowing her she’ll prefer to be called something far cooler,” he told her. 

“I was thinking Cici,” Jessica said excitedly. 

Zoe reached her arms out to Jessica who gladly swept the little girl up in her arms. “Well hello there?” Jessica greeted the sweet child, as the girl gave her a grin, missing her two front teeth. 

“I’ve never had a grandma before,” Zoe explained. 

“Oh good, then I get to be the only one to spoil you completely rotten,” she replied, causing Zoe to giggle. 

Derek was quiet for a moment, before he looked over at Malcolm, “You all right?” he asked if his voice was a little huskier from the idea that his mother wasn’t around to meet this girl, well...no one said a word. 

“Not particularly,” Malcolm replied, as he continued glancing between the two most important parental figures in his life. He had to admit he wasn’t entirely surprised by this turn of events, but at the moment he was caught between wanting to demand Gils’ intentions with his mother and wanting to demand his mother’s intentions with Gil. 

“Mal, hon,” Derek reached out, gently placing his hand in the center of his boyfriend’s back, “Let it go, love. They’re grown-ups and consenting.” 

“I…” Malcolm just nodded finally, “Okay, for now...but at some point, both of you are getting a talk,” he replied before moving past all of them to grab his coat. 

“So, what are we doing today?” Jessica asked, bouncing the little girl on her hip. She’d forgotten how wonderful it was to hold a child, forgotten how much she’d missed mothering her babies. Of course, she’d had help, but at the end of the day she’d been as much a housewife, as she had been an active member of their highbrow society. She’d been there to raise her children every step of the way, unlike many mothers in their social circle. She would deny until the day she died, that she teared up slightly when Zoe rested her head against Jessica’s shoulder and neck. 

She felt a warm hand on her other shoulder and turned to see Gil watching her with a warm smile on his face. She moved closer to him just slightly, incredibly grateful to have his calm presence in her life. 

“Well, we’re headed to the aquarium and then we were thinking we’d go look at a couple of places to move into, so Zoe could have more space, maybe finish the day off with some shopping for things she’d like in her bedroom,” Derek said with a smile, as he looked at Jessica holding his daughter. He’d known long before now, that he was going to marry Malcolm. It was only a matter of time really, and money, he hadn’t found a ring he liked yet. But as he stood there, surrounded by Malcolm’s family, who had not only accepted Derek into their weird dysfunction but welcomed him with open arms, Derek realized perhaps now more than ever, he was really ready to take that step. He wanted a family of his own, and he wanted it with Malcolm. He felt whole, for the first time in a long, long time. 

“Sounds like fun, but I’m paying for the furniture,” Jessica stated simply as if it was obvious. 

“Uh--” 

“Just let her,” Malcolm replied as he ushered the four out of the house, “Are we all going to fit in your car?” Malcolm asked. 

“Yep, I even had a car seat installed,” Gil replied in pride as he unlocked his newer car. It wasn’t the LeMans, but it was enough for now. 

“It’s a bench seat, how did you manage that?” Malcolm asked as Derek opened the back door, Jessica set Zoe down on her feet. 

Gil grinned, “Got a little help from a firefighter I know.” 

With Zoe in her car seat between them and Jessica upfront, the family of five were headed to the aquarium. Malcolm glanced over at Derek and smiled at the man he’d fallen in love with. He wasn’t sure when, or even how he’d come to find himself so at peace with at least this side of his life, but he was incredibly grateful to have the man. Zoe chatted about her new school, and what she thought of it, what she was learning. Occasionally, Jessica or Gil would chime in about a time Malcolm had learned that in school if there was a cute anecdote. 

About halfway to the aquarium, Malcolm noticed Derek had grown a little quiet, worried that they were hogging the time with Zoe, he reached over the top of the girl’s car seat, gently gripping the man’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Hazel green eyes met his, and Derek gave him a small smile, it was enough to leave Malcolm worried. 

Gil pulled into the parking lot of the aquarium, parked the car and soon he and Jessica were getting Zoe set up with a stroller in case she got tired. Malcolm dropped back, letting them take care of the admission and looked at Derek, “You okay?” 

Derek started to smile and nod, before he paused, he remembered Malcolm asking him only days earlier to share his pain and trauma, this was a chance to do that, a chance to share his burdens and not feel so alone in moments like this, “It’s harder than I thought it would be,” Derek admitted, his voice quiet before he dropped his eyes back to the ground. 

“What is?” 

When Derek glanced back up, his eyes were a little damper than they had been earlier, he swallowed a few times, past the lump of emotions that had clotted at the back of his throat. He took another breath before he turned his head away to look over at Jessica and Gil, “I...I don’t have anyone to share those kinds of stories with her,” he replied softly. 

Malcolm’s heart sank to his feet, while he was grateful that Derek wasn’t upset they’d been stealing time and attention, he had to admit that hadn’t even occurred to him. “Derek…” 

The younger man scoffed and shook his head, “Nearly eight years, you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” he whispered. 

Malcolm stepped closer to Derek, his hands gently interlacing with Derek’s, “Hey,” Malcolm murmured, managing to catch Derek’s eyes. “You never get over losing people you love. All you can hope for is that one day it hurts a little less. Besides, she isn’t going to remember the stories, she’s just going to remember that they were about you. She loves you already, she’s enamored with you.”

“You think so?” Derek asked hopefully. 

“Of course,” Malcolm chuckled, “All she did before I got out the whipped cream and pop tarts was ask questions about you.” 

“Thank you for being here,” Derek murmured as he leaned his forehead down and against Malcolm’s. 

Malcolm smiled, tilting his head up just enough so he could press a kiss to Derek’s nose. They were so sappy and he knew it, but god if he didn’t adore this man. “I’ll always be here.” 

Derek just nodded in reply, letting Malcolm squeeze his hand for another minute longer, before he composed himself and turned to smile at their family. “Right, are we ready?” he asked with a grin. 

“ME! Daddy can I ride on your shoulders?” Zoe asked, reaching up to her father. 

Derek chuckled, instead of answering he turned the girl around to face away from him, then lifted her under her arms and plopped her on his shoulders. She held onto his forehead and the group headed into the aquarium. With one hand on Zoe’s ankle, and the other holding Malcolm’s hand as Malcolm occasionally pointed things out to Zoe, or Zoe told them something she’d learned in class, Derek let himself enjoy the day, settling into the warmth that was surrounding him. 

Zoe had been pressing her face to nearly every windowed hallway she could as they went by. Pointing at the fix, and sea creatures she saw. “Daddy, look, can I pet the stingray!?” Zoe asked, pointing to the petting tanks. Derek chuckled and bent at the knees enough for Gil to help Zoe off Derek’s shoulders. 

The seven-year-old promptly took off towards the short line for the petting tanks, Gil and Derek glanced back at mother and son, both of whom waved them off, “Go have fun,” Jessica assured them. Before the two men joined the little girl. 

Jessica chuckled, “Nothing turns a grown man into a ball of sappy childishness as their little girl,” she murmured. 

Malcolm glanced over at his mother, studying her, “Are you okay?” he asked, surprised at how odd those words sounded coming from him rather than his mother. 

She turned to her son with a smile, before doing a second take and sighing, “I’m fine darling,” she brushed him off. 

“So...how long has that been going on?” Malcolm asked his mother. Malcolm had to admit as odd as it seemed to see the two together, his mother and Gil seemed to enjoy one another’s company and they kept looking at one another as if the other was the most important person in the world. He’d never imagined seeing his mother the type to go out and actually do something social that didn’t involve the rich and famous, but here she was giggling alongside a little girl in delight. 

Malcolm had always focused on his father and how he’d screwed up their lives, but as he watched his mother today, he realized it was indeed all because of her that he and Ainsley had ended up as adjusted as they had were. She was a wonderful mother and loving. Maybe she could be overbearing, but she only did it because she adored her children. 

“Uh we started talking after your kidnapping, and it sort of evolved over the past several weeks,” Jessica replied looking at her son. 

Malcolm instantly recognized the hesitancy in her voice to call the relationship what it was. He could see her eyes bounce back to Gil on occasion, all the signs were there. His mother was terrified. But why? “You’re worried about something though?” 

Jessica looked as though she wanted to deny it, before pursing her lips and looking away from him again. “Perhaps you aren’t the only one who questions their worth in relationships,” she offered, her voice quiet. 

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly at her words, it wasn’t often his mother admitted being afraid, certainly never about being not good enough. Reaching out, he gently touched his mother’s arm, startling her, before their eyes met, “Mom, Gil has always cared about you. No one deserves happiness more than you two.” 

His mother’s features softened from concern to contentment as she reached out and gently cupped her son’s face. “You deserve happiness too, my love,” she assured him. 

“Mr. Malcolm!” Zoe’s delighted shout brought them back to their present company as Zoe clung to his legs, “I touched a stingray and a star fix.” 

Malcolm was unsure what to do immediately as the girl clung to his waist, but relaxing slightly, he let his hand brush her blonde hair from her face. “Really? What did you think?” He asked her. 

“Now she wants an aquarium,” Derek replied as he and Gil joined them, still rubbing the hand sanitizer provided into his hands. 

Malcolm’s eyes widened in delight, “How about an aquatic-themed bedroom?” he asked. 

“Yeah!” Zoe cheered, releasing his legs, she gripped Malcolm’s hand as they made their way away from the petting station and through more of the aquariums. At some point, Gil and Jessica had fallen back aways, talking over something with Zoe between them. Derek was holding Malcolm’s hand as they strolled, “This is okay right, the fact that they crashed it, that I’m here too?” Malcolm asked. 

Derek’s brow furrowed for a minute, “Malcolm, I wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere but here with us, of course, it’s okay. As for Gil and Jessica,” he paused and shrugged, a warm and fond smile gracing his face. “Honestly, I’m glad they’re here too. Zoe gets to experience a normal family for once.” 

Malcolm snorted, “I don’t know about normal.” 

“Fair enough,” Derek chuckled. 

Malcolm was quiet for a few minutes, as they walked through the park, “You know I love you, right?” 

Derek turned to face his partner, “Yeah, I do. I realized something earlier today,” Derek offered. 

“What’s that?” 

Derek looked over at the man, “I want to marry you.” 

Malcolm’s eyes widened comically, before he paused, then his features softened, “I want to marry you too.” 

Pulling Malcolm close, Derek embraced him for a minute, kissing the top of his head, “I’m going to show you how worthy you are of love, Malcolm.” He promised. 

Malcolm closed his eyes, breathing deeply of the man he loved and hummed before he tilted his head back and kissed Derek’s lips. 

o0o

By the time they were done nearly two and a half hours later, Zoe had pressed her face up against every piece of plexiglass enclosure she could, she’d touched two stingrays, several starfish and had even fed a turtle. Derek was decidedly exhausted and ready for a nap and he could tell the rest of the adults in the car were as well, from the quiet surrounding him as Zoe regaled the day. 

Gil dropped them back off at Malcolm’s, offering that they could go shopping tomorrow, Malcolm nodded in agreement, as he gently lifted the now sleeping Zoe from her car seat, bringing her to rest against his chest and shoulder. 

Waving bye to his mother and Gil, Derek turned to the door, unlocking and opening it for Malcolm and his precious cargo, before he followed suit up the stairs. Athena and Bones, who’d been left at home today, briefly lifted their heads from where they were sleeping on Malcolm’s bed, before realizing who it was, and setting their heads back down. “Can she nap, or will she not sleep tonight?” Derek asked Malcolm. 

Malcolm shrugged as best he could when holding a child, “I don’t know, but neither of us really has a normal sleep schedule, so I’m sure it’s okay this time. Besides, I could be up to join her,” Malcolm smirked as he lay her down in the middle of his bed. It had been several months since he’d last had to use his restraints, something he was quite pleased with. 

The two men lay down on either side of the girl, each leaving a little space, and Derek took a moment to study the girl’s features. The longer he looked, the more of himself he saw in her, himself and...his mother. He smiled as he saw the shape of his mother’s face in Zoe’s, and yes he’d said Zoe had his nose, but he realized he had his mother’s nose. “You okay?” Malcolm asked, his eyelids already growing heavy. 

Derek smiled as he brushed the hair from Zoe’s face, then looked over at Malcolm, “Thank you, for bringing her to me,” he murmured. 

Malcolm reached over Zoe, and gripped Derek’s other hand, “You deserved to know.”

Derek didn’t reply, just nodded, before looking back down at his daughter, he let his mind drift off as Malcolm gently rubbed circles on his hand. Together that’s how the three fell asleep, the two fathers ensconcing their daughter. 

o0o

Malcolm awoke, early the next morning before either his boyfriend or Zoe, to the sound of buzzing on his side table. Looking over, grimacing at the ever-present exhaustion he felt, he grabbed his cell phone to see a message from Gil, _there was a development_. That’s all it had said, nothing further. Something was curling in his gut as he looked over at his little family. They were family, maybe they weren’t there quite yet, but they would be one day. At least he hoped they would be. 

Rolling off his side of the bed, he made quick work of getting ready for the day, before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Zoe’s forehead. Then moved over to Derek. Hazel green eyes fluttered open and looked at him, “Hey,” Derek whispered in a husky voice that gave Malcolm a stir deep in his stomach, that he desperately wanted to investigate further when he had time. 

“Hey, I gotta run, there’s been some sort of development in the case. Please have fun today, go out pick some furniture,” he smiled, running his thumb over Derek’s cheekbone. 

“Will do. I’m dropping her off later this afternoon with Chris, my shift starts at seven,” he informed Malcolm in a whisper, “Will I see you before that?” 

“I’ll try,” Malcolm promised, pressing his lips to Derek’s before making his way out of the loft. 

o0o

Malcolm arrived at the precinct about thirty minutes later, with coffees in hand for his team and Chris. Entering the conference room where they did most of their work, JT was the first person he greeted, he smiled at the larger detective who immediately returned the smile with a tight one of his own before accepting his gift of caffeine. “Thanks, bro,” JT muttered as he took his first splendid sip. 

“Jamal Tyrrone?” Malcolm asked in passing. 

“Nope, thanks for playing,” JT grinned. 

Malcolm moved over to Gil, who didn’t directly greet him but accepted the cup and gave Malcolm’s shoulder a quick squeeze. It was their silent language, years of knowing his kid, and that he occasionally needed to be reminded how important the younger man was to Gil. Then Gil handed Chris his coffee, finishing with a tea for Dani who gave him a small knowing smile before he patiently waited to be caught up. Edrisa stepped inside, thankfully clutching her own coffee, making Malcolm feel less rude for not bringing her one. She came to stand next to him, and he smiled at her. 

Chris stepped forward and put his coffee mug down before picking up the latest victim’s file, and handing it around, “We were wrong,” he concluded. 

Malcolm’s brow furrowed, “Wrong about what?” He asked as he stepped closer to Gil to look at the file. 

Edrisa spoke up, “The latest victim wasn’t killed with aconite. The only thing we found in his blood was traces of ketamine. He was definitely still alive when his throat was slit, he died by exsanguination.” 

“Okay, so obviously a different killer,” Maclolm reasoned. “So we assume the killer is looking for another victim as we speak?” 

Chris sighed, “Maybe, but we may also be out of time,” he explained before pulling out four more files and passing them around. “When Edrisa notified me of the lack of poisoning, I decided to widen our search, requested any data I could about unsolved murders throughout the US, on a hunch.” 

“And it was positive,” Dani replied. 

Chris nodded, “Four more, two in San Diego and two more in Jacksonville, North Carolina,” he replied handing them off. 

“One kill, every other week since November,” Malcolm murmured as he looked over the dates. 

“The killer is definitely hunting,” Gil concluded. “And if you’re right, we’ve got another person coming any day now.” 

TBC


	9. Crashing Down Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More victims and Derek is about to face some of his own darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be the first to admit every time I write another chapter it ends up longer than intended, and then I find this story getting longer and longer, not that I'm complaining I'm in love with these two, but still there is a plot in here somewhere and I gotta get to it, boys. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, it was fun to write, hopefully, I did the scene justice, I did a lot of research prior to writing it to make sure I got parts right.

**Chapter Nine - Crashing Down Around You**

Dani and Malcolm spent the rest of the day in the conference room going over each individual person, trying to create a profile, while JT and Chris talked to the family and friends of each victim in hopes of determining who might have wanted to kill these people. 

The day quickly turned into the evening, Chris headed home to pick up Zoe, since Derek was on shift. Malcolm sighed and stretched, checking his phone he saw the text. 

_ Got everything a seven to seventeen-year-old will likely ever need. Your mom found us a three-bedroom condo. She’s having all the stuff delivered there. _

Sent at 4:30pm

_ Sorry, I couldn’t be there, this case just got harder. I wasn’t home before your _ _   
_ _ shift. Love you, be safe. _

Sent at 7:15 pm

He replied before looking back at the board with pictures and names on it. No matter how many times he stared at the photos, nothing seemed to jump out at him. Sighing, he turned and looked at Dani, “Are you hungry?” he asked. 

She balked slightly, “Malcolm Bright is asking me if I’m hungry. Your mom would be so proud.” 

Malcolm snorted, “I’ll have you know I’ve eaten more than just licorice for the last three weeks,” he replied with a grin. 

The door opened and an exhausted JT stepped inside, “You guys hungry? Gil suggests we all take a break and go get something to eat, he’s paying.” 

Dani and Malcolm laughed, “We were literally just talking about food,” Dani grinned as she stood, grabbing her jacket and followed JT out the door, Malcolm taking up the rear. The trio met Gil by the door and headed into the cold night air. Sirens could be heard across the air, and Malcolm looked over at Gil, wondering if the man knew anything about them. 

“No idea, we’re not being called,” replied Gil as they climbed into his car and pulled away from the curb. 

They found themselves sitting at a Chinese restaurant a little later, chatting quietly with one another. JT was telling them about how things were going with Tally, and how there seemed to be rumors that the coronavirus was getting worse at the hospital where she worked. 

“This is Ainsley Whitly, coming to you live from something that could only be described as a towering inferno,” someone had turned the TV in the corner up, and all four heads at the table swiveled to look at Malcolm’s sister on the TV. Behind her was indeed a raging fire. It looked to be a multi-floor apartment building, the fire was ablaze with reds, yellows and oranges. Malcolm remembered once being told that the hottest point of fire was at the center, where it usually burnt blue or green. “At this time, we’re being told that it’s believed almost all the residents have been evacuated. There are teams currently inside checking for additional residents that may not have come out yet--” Mid-sentence there was an explosion, everyone--including the camera, looked up towards the building to see the glass shoot out from the top floor as the fire spanned out the windows and licked their way up the sides of the building. 

The people on the ground, including Ainsley, had ducked for cover as the glass rained down and around them. Malcolm could vaguely hear the shouting in the background as the firefighters shifted their hoses to aim inside the windows. 

Ainsley stood back up, brushing her hair out of her face, before she pressed her earpiece closer, “I’m getting reports that there may be two injured firefighters at this time. We’ll bring you more on this as the scene unfolds.” 

Malcolm felt something clench as if a vice was tightening around his heart. A hand on top of his yanked him from his frightening thoughts, he looked over to JT, whose dark brown eyes were watching him. “Breath man, I saw at least three engines there, we don’t know anything yet.” 

o0o

Derek and his team had barely arrived and changed into their uniforms when the bell rang alerting them to a five-story fire in Manhattan. A total of three separate ladder trucks were being called in for fear the fire would jump to one of the buildings beside it. 

“All right,” Captain Sloane said over the radio, “We’re running point on this, the 111th is going to be venting the roof and working to keep the fire contained to one building and the 193rd is going to be on the hoses. We’re in charge of going inside and helping with evac. Hale, I want you, Hennessy, and Monty to start at the top and work your way down, Karis, O’Neil you’ll start at the bottom and work your way up. 

Derek nodded before glancing over at Hennessy and Monty, Andrew Hennessy was currently looking a bit paler than usual, sweat dotting his brow. “You all right?” Derek asked as he nudged the younger of the two men. 

Andrew glanced up, before giving him a sharp nod, “Just a stomach thing. I’m fine.” 

Before any of his fellow firefighters could ask further questions their ladder truck pulled to a stop in front of the building in question. “Let’s go,” the Captain ordered and a second later the men and women were headed to their instructed locations. 

The fire had started on the top two floors, there were no alarms blaring, which had Derek concerned instantly. “Captain, there are no sprinklers and the fire alarms aren’t going off,” Derek called into his radio. 

“I’ll make a note of it, maybe faulty wiring, can you get to the fifth and sixth floors?” His Captain’s voice echoed over his radio. 

“Stairs look stable, we can test the floor as we go,” Derek answered. Despite the roar of the fire and the crackling of the wood around him, Derek heard when Monty cried out. 

“Hennessy!” He shouted from behind Derek. Whirling around towards his partners, his eyes widened as he watched Hennessy fall to the ground untouched, clearly, nothing had hit him. Moving back to the two men, he knelt down. 

“What the hell happened?” He demanded. 

Monty shook his head, “He complained of chest pains, then doubled over.”

“Damn it, Andrew,” growled Derek, before reaching for his radio. “Cap, we’ve got a firefighter down, sending Monty out with Hennessy now.” 

“What happened?” His captain asked. 

“Unsure, seems his stomach issue may have been more serious, permission to head upstairs solo?” 

“Granted, be careful, bail if you think it’s too dangerous.” 

“Copy that,” Derek replied. 

“Take him outside, Cap can decide where he wants you when you’re out there.” 

Monty nodded, “See ya on the outside,” Monty replied before he hefted Hennessy into a fireman's carry and made his way back down the stairs. 

Derek turned back around, ax in hand, and headed up the stairs, he tapped each one as he went up with the head of his ax, to check its stability before stepping up. He managed to get up to the fifth floor, “Captain at the top floor, any word on the number of apartments?” 

“Ten on each floor, we’ve confirmed that at least half of the residents from the 5th floor are down here and alive. Focus on apartments 502, 503, 507, and 509 residents have reason to believe that 508 has been empty for some time.” 

“Copy that,” Derek replied as he looked down the hallway, the fire was worse at the other end, thus the flooring would be less stable, as much as it pained him to admit it, it was unlikely that anyone in those apartments had survived. Still, he moved forward, walking at the edges of the hall, rather than down the center. He pounded on the closed doors he could, shouting NYFD as loud as possible, finally, he made it to 502 and 503. Directly across from one another, he took his ax, and gave a mighty swing, busting through the door of 502, pulling it out, he swung a second time, until he was able to push through the door. 

His eyes landed on a table in the center of the room, “Captain, what floor did the fire start on?” 

“Fourth, why?” 

“We need to evac--” Before he could say anything further he watched as one of the bottles on the table began to burn away, turning he ran out of the room and back down the hall, a second later there was a huge explosion, he felt the heat at the back of his uniform as he was propelled forward to the floor, his helmet slammed into the ground, and he grunted, feeling it cut into his forehead. 

“Hale! Respond! Everyone give me a headcount now!” The Captain’s distorted voice ordered, barely pushing through Derek’s haze. He vaguely heard the rest of his team responding with their safety, “This is Hale, there’s a drug lab up here,” Derek replied before he started to get to his knees and then feet. The floor below him gave a loud creek, and he felt it starting to sag. “Hale down, I repeat--” the floor gave way and he went crashing down to the fourth floor, only to feel it give way beneath him too. He was vaguely aware of the agony searing through his body, darkness enveloped him. 

o0o

They’d just settled back into the conference room when Malcolm’s phone rang, brow furrowed in confusion at a number he didn’t recognize. “Hello?” He answered. 

“Is this Malcolm Bright?” a voice on the other end asked, it was filled with exhaustion and something that sounded like worry. 

“Yes, who’s this?” 

There was a soft sigh, “It’s Captain Sloane, Derek’s boss,” instantly Malcolm sank to the chair behind him, the earlier feeling of dread returning. 

“Please tell me he’s alive,” Malcolm whispered, all eyes in the room were instantly on him. 

“He is, and he’s stable from what the doctors have said. But...he’s in pretty rough shape. We’re at St. Margaret’s. They won’t give me much more information, you and JT are listed as his family.” 

Malcolm nodded, before realizing the man couldn’t hear a nod, “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Malcolm replied quietly. 

“He’s not dying, Malcolm. I want to stress that he should recover, but it’s serious enough that the doctors would like to talk to you,” Captain Sloane reassured. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, hanging up the phone. 

“Bright, kid, you okay?” Gil asked. 

Malcolm just sat there, staring at nothing in particular, he briefly wondered if this was how his family felt every time he managed to land in the hospital. He could feel his hands shaking, his breathing was starting to quicken. 

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up into JT’s concerned face, “Ya all right, bro?” 

“Derek...Derek was hurt, I have to go,” he could feel his mind unraveling. 

“Hey, look at me,” JT requested, as he crouched down in front of Malcolm. “Derek is one helluva tough guy. He’s been through hell and back several times. Whatever happened to him isn’t going to stop him this time either. Now, I’m sure Gil will let you and me head over to the hospital and see what’s going on,” JT glanced over at their boss, who instantly nodded. 

“Of course, just give us an update,” Gil replied with a nod, as much as he wanted to rush with Malcolm to the hospital, he knew that right now, JT would be more help and support to Malcolm than Gil would be. 

JT drove, Malcolm sitting quietly in the passenger’s seat, every once in awhile JT would glance over at the younger man. “You okay?” JT finally asked. 

Malcolm’s head snapped to look over at him as if the profiler had forgotten where he was, and that he wasn’t alone. Malcolm opened his mouth, no doubt to lie and say he was fine before he cocked his head slightly and shook it finally after another moment. “Is this what it feels like when something happens to someone you care about?” 

JT’s eyebrow lifted, “If by ‘this’ you mean it feels like your heart is being torn to shreds and gripped tighter than should be possible, then yeah. That’s exactly what it feels like when someone you love is hurt or in danger.” 

“I don’t know how to fix this.” 

“You can’t bro, there isn’t a fixing ‘this’, all we can do is make sure we’re there to support him while he heals.” 

“What if he can’t be a firefighter anymore?” 

JT let out a shaky breath, “Bright, I’ve learned a lot as a cop and army man, what I’ve learned repeatedly is, those things that you have no control over, they don’t bear thinking about until the situation comes up. Sometimes one step at a time is easier than having a plan for everything.” 

“I know you’re right, but…” Malcolm shook his head before staring back out the window. 

JT glanced over to the man before he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, “Malcolm,” he spoke, uttering the man’s first name for probably the first time ever. “Derek is going to need you right now, you can break down when you’re in my company, Gil’s, or anyone else’s. But not Derek’s. He was there when you needed him after your kidnapping. Now is your chance to be there for him. Whatever you need to do, do it now, before you go in there. He can’t see you lose it.” A part of JT knew it wasn’t fair, but that was part of the gig, they worked in jobs where they had to appear strong for everyone else around them. Derek was going to be terrified, and probably angry as hell. He didn’t need a partner who was going to cry at the idea of him never being a firefighter, because Derek would want to cry himself over such things. He had no doubt that whatever the problem was, Malcolm and Derek could get through it together. 

Malcolm took in a few slow deep breaths, in and then out, in then out again, before he turned back to JT looking far more composed, “You’re right. I’m ready.” 

Jt nodded, giving Malcolm a pat on the shoulder, “We’re in this together bro. I promise I’m here with you the whole time.” 

“Thanks, JT, not just for that...Thank you for introducing us.” 

JT snorted, “Ain’t my fault he’s your particular brand of crazy. I’m just glad you two are happy.” Shutting the car off, he pushed the door open, “Let’s go see your man.” 

Malcolm paused, “Oh god, Zoe…” 

“Ask Gil to tell Chris, I’m sure he’ll be happy to bring her by. If he can’t I can arrange Tally to pick her up.” 

Malcolm gave JT a jerky nod, before texting Gil, and then slipping his phone in his pocket. He and JT walked into the emergency room waiting area with purpose. Immediately they saw a group of firefighters there, which surprised Malcolm. He’d have assumed they’d be required to stay back and fight the fire or work their shift. 

A man with a tall square chin, stood, his eyes looked exhausted. His face was covered in soot, “You must be Malcolm,” he greeted in a deep voice, “Captain Steve Sloan. NYFD,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand. 

Malcolm nodded solemnly, before accepting the man’s larger hand and shaking it firmly, “How is he?” 

The Captain shook his head, “They can’t tell me much, we’re not family. You and Detective Tarmel are his emergency contacts, so they’re more likely to talk to you.” 

JT glanced at all the other firefighters, they all looked like they were in various states of shock, some had tear tracks on their dirty faces. “Was Derek the only firefighter hurt?” 

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head, “No...we lost one of our men tonight. As far as we can tell his death wasn’t related to the fire at all. But doesn’t really matter, does it?” he asked, both JT and Malcolm could see the sorrow in the man’s face, he was hurting just like everyone else. 

“What happened?” Malcolm asked, his curiosity unable to be assuaged. 

“They haven’t told us much, his wife…” Steve stopped and closed his eyes, “His widow, Cheryl is back there with him now.” 

JT nodded his thanks, before grabbing Bright’s jacket and pulling him towards the nurse's station, “Bro, I know you’re worried about Der and you’ve got this killer on your mind. But let’s let these men and women grieve and figure out what happened tomorrow, okay?” 

Malcolm looked at JT, he saw the lines of stress and worry on the man’s round face, he nodded, “Any chance we could at least have his body transferred to Edrisa?” 

“I’ll call Gil and see what he can do,” JT offered in reply as they stepped over to one of the women at the nurse’s desk. “My brother, Derek Hale, was brought in, he’s one of the firefighters.” 

The woman nodded, her dark brown eyes looking at Malcolm, “And your relation?” she asked. 

“He’s my husband,” Malcolm lied, boyfriend sounded so stupid right now and all he wanted to do was see Derek. 

“Okay, since you’re both families, and it looks like his emergency contacts, I can have someone take you back to see him. I’ll page his doctor and let her know you've arrived.” A moment later the locked door opened to the patient area, and another nurse was waiting there to guide them to Derek’s room. 

“I apologize, he’s in a short stay room right now, that’s all we have available since COVID hit, we’ll be keeping him here overnight at least, the doctor can provide you more details,” the woman assured the two men as she led them through a labyrinth of halls before coming to a set of sliding glass doors. She turned to JT and Derek, “He’s been in and out of consciousness since his arrival, which is actually very good, he looks pretty rough from the fall. But thankfully most of his injuries were relatively minor.” 

“Most?” Malcolm asked in a slightly higher voice than he was used to.

“From what the nurses have told me he fell face-first through two floors, he had extensive trauma to his abdomen and chest. He has a number of broken and fractured ribs, his spleen ruptured and one of his broken ribs pierced his lung. The doctor will have to give you more information I’m afraid. But I can assure you, he’s stable,” that she opened the door to room ST105 and let them in, “My name is Becky if you need anything, his on-call nurse for the night if Henry as well. Just push the red button if you need anything from anything of us.” she instructed, before walking away. 

The room was fairly dark, a single light on over what looked like a small sink surrounded by cabinets. Otherwise, the curtains were drawn and the only sound heard was the constant beep of his heart monitor. JT paused just outside the curtains, before moving further into the room, Malcolm at his side. The two men mentally braced themselves for whatever they were about to face. Each making their own mental catalog of potential damage done by falling through two floors. After another moment of silence between the two men, JT drew the curtain back and they got their first glimpse of the man they both loved. 

Malcolm couldn’t help the reaction of the sharp gasp of air, and beside him, JT let out a soft curse under his breath. Derek was lying almost flat in the bed, he had a small wedge under his neck and another small one under his knees. The bed looked to be an airbed, meant to inflate and deflate to avoid pressure points. He was covered with a blanket from his waist down, his chest was mostly wrapped in bandages, what was wrapped was already a deep shade of blacks, blues, and purples. His left arm was in a cast from his wrist to his elbow and gently elevated by a small sling. There were two tubes coming out of his body, both on his left side, one was a little lower than the other, the other looked to be a chest tube, whether to drain blood or fluid from a collapsed lung, Malcolm wasn’t entirely sure. Derek’s he was tilted back slightly from the wedge supporting his neck, he had an oxygen cannula attached, his neck and face looked somewhat unscathed, probably thanks to his helmet, but then near his hairline was a bandage to cover what looked like a sizable gash, remnants of blood still on his face and neck from where the blood had flowed down his face. 

The parts of him that weren’t littered in bruises, or covered with gauze and bandages were an unhealthy pale white, rather than his usual healthy glow, his hair already looked greasy, even a little crusty from soot or blood from what Malcolm could see. Though Derek’s eyes were closed and he was clearly receiving pain medicine based on the two bags hanging on his IV, his brow was still pinched in some pain.

“I’m afraid to touch him,” Malcolm murmured, as he tried to search for a single portion of his partner that wasn’t decorated in bruises or scrapes. 

A knock on the door behind them had both men turning to see a petite woman step into the hospital room, she had the usual doctor’s coat on over a pair of dark green scrubs, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had bags under her eyes. “Hello, I’m Dr. Corrine Morrison,” she greeted, shifting the chart in her arms slightly so she could shake both their hands. 

“JT Tarmel, and this is Derek’s husband, Malcolm.” 

“Nice to meet you both. Derek got very lucky tonight,” she told them confidently. 

“Really, cause from here he looks terrible,” JT murmured. 

She gave him an understanding smile, “It can be overwhelming to see all the wires and tubes he’s hooked up to, but I assure you, Mr. Hale was incredibly lucky. My understanding is he was nearly caught in an explosion and when his weight, combined with the weight of his gear hit the floor, it collapsed beneath him, he hit the fourth floor and it gave way as well. A fall like that would kill many people, so as I said, it may not look like it but he got very lucky.” 

“Will he be able to work again?” Malcolm asked. 

“It’ll be a while, he had a ruptured spleen, which thankfully we were able to get controlled very quickly, and one of his broken ribs pierced his lung, causing it to collapse, we got it reinflated in the emergency room, and were able to take him straight into OR and get both things patched up fairly quickly. He’s lost a lot of blood, which right now poses the second biggest danger.” 

“What’s the first?” JT spoke this time. 

“There’s, unfortunately, a great deal of trauma to his spine. He fell face forward, and while the front of his body took the brunt of the damage, his back basically had a 60 lb tank fall on it, as well as lumber. Right now, all of the scans and images we’ve taken indicate that there’s no fracture to his spinal column, which is wonderful news.” 

“But?” JT prompted. 

“But, there’s a lot of swelling right now, and unfortunately the swelling is compressing his nerves, which is likely going to be the source of his pain for the foreseeable future. We’ve given him some anti-inflammatories to help counteract it, but ultimately the swelling will have to reduce on its own. We’ve tested all his limbs for a response, he doesn’t show a lot of sensation in either of his legs right now, but he didn’t show any when they brought him in, so there is an improvement.” 

“So he’ll walk again?” Malcolm questioned, his eyes straying back to the man he loved. 

She nodded, “I expect so, once the swelling has gone down I anticipate he’ll have full use of his legs back, he has fairly normal feeling in both his arms and upper body, the brunt of the weight hit him in his mid to lower back, so we aren’t terribly surprised by the swelling at this time. Once the swelling is down to a manageable level we’ll get him started in PT to make sure no permanent damage was done. I do expect he’ll be able to return to work, but I doubt it’ll be for several months.” 

“Jesus,” JT whispered looking back over his shoulder at his best friend. 

Malcolm had to swallow a few times to get past the lump in his throat, “Does he know?” 

The doctor nodded, “He’s been in and out of consciousness quite a few times since his arrival, which is excellent, he has little to no head trauma, the gauze you see on his forehead is from where his helmet sliced into his hairline. Aside from that, we don’t see any major injuries to his head, neck, or face, which is amazing. Though, I have the feeling it’s because he had the wherewithal to cover his head and neck with his arms.” 

“Is that how he broke his arm?” 

“Yes, he actually had a compound fracture of the radius. We’ve reset the bone, put a couple of small screws and rod inside to hold it together, we don’t expect any surprises there.” 

“How is he, mentally?” Malcolm questioned. 

She sighed, “Unfortunately, he knows the fall was bad, he’s scared. We’re going to have a therapist come by probably later tomorrow to talk to him. Add to that the loss of a fellow firefighter. Well, as you can imagine he’s understandably upset. My best word of advice to you both is to keep him calm, keep him still and just keep him company.” 

JT nodded, “Thanks doc,” he shook her hand before turning back to take up one of the seats next to Derek’s side. Malcolm nodded his thanks as well to the doctor before doing the same on Derek’s other side. They both heard the doctor pull the curtain closed, and the door shut most of the way. 

Malcolm hesitated at first, he desperately wanted to reach out and let Derek know he was here, but the fear of touching him and causing more pain was overwhelming. Finally, he opted for the most gentle method he could and lifted his hands up to gently run his fingers through Derek’s hair. 

To his surprise, hazel green eyes fluttered open at the familiar touch, it was clear instantly that the man looking at him was very high, his eyes were glassy and Derek gave him an odd smile as if he had no idea where he was, much less what had happened. “Hey,” Derek croaked, voice scratchy from the day’s events. 

Malcolm couldn’t help it, he smiled in response, feeling elated just to see those gorgeous eyes staring back at him, “Hey yourself,” he whispered, as he rubbed his thumb over Derek’s unbruised temple. “Heard you had a busy day,” he opted for light conversation rather than anything too heavy. 

Derek hummed, “You could say that,” he slurred. 

JT couldn’t help but snort, “Dude you are plastered on pain meds aren’t you?” 

Derek grinned, “Mmm, gonna start feelin’ it tomorrow,” he mumbled before his eyes slid closed again. 

Malcolm chuckled and shook his head, “Go back to sleep, handsome, we’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Mmm, more black’nblue than cute,” Derek mumbled as he fell back asleep. 

JT shook his head, still grinning, “Remind me of that conversation next time I’m in the hospital.” 

“I most definitely won’t,” Malcolm replied as he stood up and pressed a gentle kiss to Derek’s forehead. “His hair is still dirty, I want to clean him but I also don’t want to hurt him.” 

“We’ll ask a nurse when they come in again about possibly wiping him down. For now, let’s just appreciate that he’s in one piece.” 

**o0o**

Chris finished zipping his niece’s coat, right as the front door to their condo opened, Allison stepped into the front room, her brows instantly furrowing, “You going somewhere?” she asked in confusion. 

Chris glanced over and up at his daughter before he nodded and stood, “I have to take Zoe to the hospital, her dad, Derek has been injured. I shouldn’t be gone long, an hour maybe two. Do you want me to leave you some money for dinner?” he asked as he kissed her forehead. 

“Uh, no that’s okay, there are some leftovers in the fridge. How long will he be in the hospital?” she questioned as she bent down to help Zoe put her shoes on. 

“I’m not sure, Lt. Arroyo said it sounded pretty bad, so maybe a couple of weeks at least,” Chris replied as he finished lacing Zoe’s other shoe. “All right, I’ll see you in a bit, please don’t let Scott come over,” he ordered gently. 

Allison blushed but nodded, “Don’t worry dad, we had a fight anyway,” she replied, brushing her hair from her face. 

Chris winced, “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No you’re not,” she replied, rolling her eyes. 

Chris smirked, “All right, maybe not. But can’t blame a dad for not wanting anyone near his little girl.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he whispered to her. 

“Love you too, bye Zoe,” Allison gave the smaller girl and hug and kiss before closing and locking the door behind him. Setting her jaw, she pulled out her cell phone, pressing a familiar number she waited as the phone rang. “Hi grandpa,” she said with a grin. “Guess what I just learned, Derek Hale is in the hospital injured.” She smiled as she walked further into the house, flopping down onto the couch, “Yep, sounds like our work just got a lot easier."

TBC

**Author's Note:**

> I've really debated posting this yet, I haven't finished it hell I'm still working on chapter three. But at the same time, I need encouragement so I figured maybe if I start posting it reviews and excitement will get me excited to write more and figure out what I want to do with this. 
> 
> Also sorry about the formatting switching between word and google word lends itself to some weird issues.


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